AUGUST POETRY

SKIPPING STONE

By

S M Abeles

I am the flattest rock,

the ideal skipping stone,

born for throws cheered by loners and throngs maddening

with every skip a step on a path

bestowing, godlike,

borrowed perfection.

After each side-slung hurl I sink to the bottom

(where I spend most of my time)

until low tide when they find me, irresistible,

but too hard to hold, too stark a contrast to imperfection, to weakness, to humanity,

tossing me anew

and making certain I know (as though reminder were necessary)

that while beautiful,

I am just a rock.

A nothing.

CRACKS

By

S M Abeles

Whenever I allow your fantasy

reality cracks,

as if to give way.

More and more I feel life’s splinter–

grounds groaning, walls cleaving–

this house teetering will soon be dust.

But I don’t care.

I

Do

Not

Care.

I am utterly untroubled.

When light replaces foundation

I know I’ll be home,

for the first time,

at last.