An Insignificant Pebble In My Hand

i am now into
useless things

like this pebble in my head
smooth, reddish, with some
gray veins
a paradox of youth
and senility

i hold it
i close my hands
and hide it from you

you who see nothing
significant about it

it is cold now and
it is keeping me warm

inside my mind
it has become so significant
and as
beautiful as ever

i shall dream about a castle
of pebbles

smooth, reddish, sun like.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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