these river rocks
the colors of my soul
and as dense and heavy

I have carried them longer
than I carried my children
I have known their heft
since I was a child myself
holding them to the gloaming
purple light
confident that the rocks 
cradled dragons within

I am old now
my hair frail silver
like a winter dawn
yet still I rub these rocks
between my papery palms
still I hold them
to be warmed by heaven’s glow
still I listen
for the crackle of shell