Sea Stroll Request

When you walk along the beach
on the shores of your universe,
and you see a small stone,
rounded in waves and sand
from years of tumbling
in the surf,
polished a bit,
some colors showing,
I know you pick it up,
I’ve watched you,
rub it with love
between your thick fingers,
pocket it,
saved for your collection.

Someday when I have tumbled about
enough in storms and waves,
become a bit more rounded,
perhaps better polished
in your abrasive sand,
may you walk by,
and may I, lying here among
other stones and drying seaweed,
still catch your searching eye.