Some days are like that
special stone, gleaming
like a gem among
the shattered shells and
flabby mats of kelp—
the one you plucked
from the sand, and held
out in your cold hand
for my admiration, before
tucking it in your pocket,
for luck. Now, dry and
bleached, it lives deep
in my dresser drawer,
surprising me sometimes,
when it appears in my
cold, outstretched hand,
so far away from home.
(c) 2017, by Hannah Six
Image: Isle of Skye, FrankWinkler
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