Acorns and Pebbles


In my daughter’s hand

lies the secret ingredients:

acorns and pebbles,

oblong and round.

Their magic

still glows her soul

with their hues of

greens and browns.

Little trinkets from nature

pocket- and palm-sized,

capable of

sprouting new life

and bringing back

memories of falls past

and the rivers upon which

such pebbles skipped

and the girl who

hopped along,

skipping the square

of hopscotch the pebble

landed on,

skipping over the bad

and recalling the good,

of oak trees

and squirrels

and campfire wood,

the feel of the

smooth and rough,

contradicting, yet

soothing to the touch,

like so much of life

with its bumps

and slides

that cause you to

trip and glide,

but whenever you

get too overwhelmed

with the ride,

you can simply escape

into nature’s wondrous



Poem by me. Image by my daughter.

2 thoughts on “Acorns and Pebbles

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