I drop the stones from my hand

one by one

by two by many.

I watch as they leap

down the mountainside,

once burdens in a pocket.

They glitter and glint

as they roll,

free spirited away.

They were not mine.

They did not serve me.

I could have released them

so long ago.

I clap my hands to dispel the dust

which is then caught

by a streak of sunlight.

I pull my pockets inside out

and shake free what’s left.

My teeth glitter and glint

in my outstretched lips.

The sun nods toward the west

ready to let go, too.

I have arrived,

lighter than before.


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