How you used to collect rocks,
Small, round, smooth bits.
Each one meticulously chosen
For reasons I didn't understand.
"They were here before us,
And they'll stay long after we're gone."
You always said.
These little treasures
Adorned our tables and shelves,
Like silent immortal markers
Of where we've been
Along the way.
I found a rock today,
Speckled white and it fit perfectly
In the palm of my hand.
I brought it to you and
I placed it atop the stone that is
Your own eternal marker now.
I stood there for awhile,
Watching the way it glittered beautifully
In the rays of the setting sun.
I walk with my head down these days,
Not because I am sad,
But because I never want to miss
A rock you would've loved.