The Stone-Spinners

Books stretch along the wall
   In the quiet room.
   At your feet lie
Still holding the rolling sound,
  Of the returning tide,
  Like shells,
In their longing for the sea.
The way a broken heart longs
  After a time for love.
For love and loss
  Are at the heart of
In the river between us
  I spin flat stones.
You send each one back
  Curving the trajectory
With the scallop-shape
  Of your hand.
Each stone cuts the surface
In a flash of skips and turns.
  We move along
  The river-bank
With the grace of Greek youths
Throwing discus or javelin.
Stone-spinning stops
When one sinks slowly
To the sandy bottom.
  Over time
Amber underbelly water
Moulds the sinkers into
And offers them to the sea.
For movement and stillness
  Are at the bottom of
In the quiet room,
With the river flowing between us
We come to know stones.
Igneous. Sedimentary. Metamorphic.
Sisyphus. Oedipus. Artemis.


                        Anne O’ Malley