What I Carry
Taken from a pebble-dashed beach, this piece
of sharp-edged flint, a gift from his small hand
into my pocket — and I carry it around,
its weight warm against my hip. It’s as if
his hand still holds both it
and my autumn
heart.
Written for dVerse Poets, a quadrille of forty-four words including pocket. Photograph is my own taken on Eastbourne beach. ©Misky 2006-2026.
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