on the beach with my son
first we hunt smooth flat stones; I watch him. a
grown man stubbled and thin;
he twists his body, stone flies
out of his hand, oh my god
so many skips;
I throw a stone, first backwards
my son corrects me I
change to forward get two skips; it’s all
only two skips! He aims
three more stones, five skips, six seven, each
sinks halfway across the lake.
I throw a beautiful stone I have been saving;
it is swallowed by the water four feet from shore.
Good try my son shouts.