flat stones

ClutchTheDawn

the stoic man
has gone home
to cry alone
another walks by
knees calloused
praying for what
he's yet to possess

frigid
I'm in knee deep
minnows circling my ankles
the sun shimmers
on baby waves
I scan for flat stones

this is my place
to cry, or pray
or simply remember things
the way I saw them
I find myself smiling
and give up on flat stones

I trace her footsteps
across the sand
and find her swaying
griping the chain link
she smiles back
and I give her an under-doggy

justam

Is this about fishing in a river?

ClutchTheDawn

sort of, i just don't bring the rod anymore. don't catch any less fish.