My Rock

I have found my rock,
uncovered it of earth
and brought it to my home,

I have cleaned the silt
and placed it there on my desk.

I look often at it
and position it just so,
illuminated and held in high esteem.
A beautiful thing,

strength and simplicity —
sometimes I contemplate throwing it through my window
or dropping it down the street drain,

but I never can.

The beautiful rock that draws me so,
I am its posession,
a meaningless stone.

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