this is not the type of stone
that remains inside my pocket;
for reasons undeveloped.
you could bring it to me, and
I would place it in this Stream,
leaving it to float among the Sidling or be
rested at the floor. almost forever,
until a Fresh current revives it,
pushing on its back legs,
pulling it to the Surface.

when it breathes, it Gulps at air.

when it sleeps, it tends to Snore.

and a Clouded day will bring rain,
scattering leaves and pebbles.

Call out to the bird that has taken its leaf
to its nest to nourish its wings.