I Am Stone
I am stone kicked about on a grassy path,
boots stomping unhurriedly find their mark in me,
the owner seems lost in thought -
but the boots keep kicking me accurately,
I drift as in a dream, if stones can dream.
The last kick has sent me flying
right into some dried-out patch of grass,
purple and gloomy in the pale growing dusk.
The boots have stopped walking,
I feel safe now, assured I won't be kicked again.
Journey's end for the boots is a house
sitting alone in a corner, like me it must feel
anxious that the boots may kick its door,
but house and me, stone, are inanimate -
we don't feel, and life is mere kicking of boots.
@jjote 070121
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