Jo & Derrie

Poems to Pebbles

Moonstone Beach

Ocean polished beach rocks

As I said, I have always liked rocks. The very fact of them being generated by the forces of nature and then just waiting around to be appreciated staggered me as a kid. As a budding naturalist, I spent a lot of my weekends in a small creek that ran through our tract homes in San Jose. This little patch of heaven supplied me with tadpoles, frogs, insects, and a variety of interesting rocks. It occurred to me that the rocks wouldn’t be going anywhere unless there was a flood, more construction, another ice-age, or if I simply picked it up and threw it. Can you imagine the moment of excitement for a rock that had been so stationary just a moment before? I could. Hence my poems.

The Pebble’s Journey

I am a little pebble,
Sitting by a creek.
I never make a whimper
I never do speak.

I have a round flat belly,
As flat as it can be –
One day a small girl came along
And took a look at me.

She picked me up and threw me
Right across that creek.
I jumped along merrily
To see what I could seek.

I am a little pebble,
On the other side of the creek.
I never make a whimper,
I never do speak.

By Jo Anne Gossner, aged 9
Circa 1972

Jo and Derrie 1972

Haiku (based on my childhood poem)

A small grey pebble
With a smooth, round, flat belly
Skips across the pond

It’s my will to make
Static into kinetic
And skip a small stone

Jo Beck, December 2020
Thanks to Red Diva Rachel Warner
for the  haiku challenge

Comments 2

    1. Thank you Rachel! You’re the first to leave a comment. You win an egg or a rock. On second thought, forget the egg. I think you’re more of a rock person.

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