new shoots push through the earth
even under cloudy skies
broken glass from a mirror
leaves the shape of a gull’s head
a crow perches on the tail feathers
of a brass rooster weather vane
After a month of writing stones, I think I am just starting to understand what a small stone is. Each time I compose one, I wonder if I'm "getting it right." I've been very focussed on what I see, but have also been wondering if observation is more than that, some place between seeing and knowing.