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Poem: Stones

Pebbles are miraculous. —Josef Albers

Something in sea-smoothed stones longs for my hand—
restless ocean offspring absorbing stress like heat,
like moisture. Hours dissolve searching for promising
colors, patterns and shapes revealing the planet’s mysteries

Teetering at the surf’s cobbled edge, waves draw stones
to shore, withdrawing them again, endlessly
chattering like muffled applause or distant firecrackers
celebrating the polish of blind persistence.

Rocks bulging in pockets, I walk awkwardly along
the sand, weighted with worthless treasures striped
and swirled, banded, stippled with soft hued crystals
of ancient violence. I’m balanced with ballast.

David K. Leff is a freelance writer and photographer from Collinsville, Connecticut. He is the author of three nonfiction books and three volumes of poetry. Finding the Last Hungry Heart, his novel in verse about the confluence of the present and the 1960s, was recently released by Homebound Publications. Leff is a graduate of the University of Connecticut School of Law and was Deputy Commissioner at the Connecticut Department of Environmental Protection from 1996 to 2006. More of his work is at davidkleff.com.

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