It's Still Life

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.