I run my fingers over the pebble
Smooth, cool, warming between my palm
The air feels different this time
I toss it forward, calling out hello
It clacks its way down the stone walls of the well, deeper and deeper until a dull thud
I thought I had heard someone call back, but again, it was the echo of my own voice
I imagine the warmth fading from the pebble, too far down for me to retrieve
When will I learn my lesson?
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poem written by grace isabel gius

audio produced by sky kistler