mmmccclxxxviii

a rock’s lament

to wait
is not
to live.

there’s
the rock,
there’s
the sling
shot,

and there’s
the boy
holding
them, at

first in
separate
hands.

the sling
shot is
prone,
has been
for what
seems like
forever.

the boy
takes aim
at the robin
on the tele
phone wire.

the rock
has lang
uished in
waiting.

but to
kill a
bird?

it dreamt
of soaring,
absolutely,
but this?

this
was
never
the rock’s
intent.

the boy
is focused
on the bird;
the slingshot
in his hand
is ready for
the ecstasy
of release.

the rock,
finally
soaring,
is env
eloped
in grief,
aware on
ly now that
its entire ex
istence was

but for
this boy
and this
bird.