Passion
For Pebbles

A poem by Kit Kennedy

Because.  Ocean has two hands
one corrodes, the other
blesses.

I know there is no escaping
what salt wears
your absence preserves.

You favored cool colors
wanting to take them into yourself.
Light jade,

said you wore that shade
for protection or when you felt
like a sorceress.

For a long time after you died
when I looked in a mirror,
I saw something quietly rusting.

Now my hands hold a feast of pebbles.
I favor ones with white lines
those chance draws, promising good luck

and think of you.  What sea takes,
gives back.  Everything
and nothing a meditation.

Copyright 2006 by Kit Kennedy