I Am A Rock

I feel the pull and a slight warmth upon me. Its pattern is exactly 28 units long. It arches over me and changes the flat about me. I wonder if it is round like me. What makes her move above me? She is too far for us to touch unlike the small bits that shift below me. I sense we had the same beginnings and will come to the same end. But not today for the rock, a child’s hand has carefully placed it in a paper bag and it will be for a time separated from its harsh mistress.