September 19

I walk outside

and notice

how green

the grass looks. At the water,

I think I am enough. I see a stone.

I ask what its purpose is to me. I see moss

growing on it. Waves wiping away shells

that cling to it. I wonder how to create

like it, in water, with water, of water. 

I, stone.

Stone, I.

We belong.

I am.