Beatrix Stickney

Grade: 10

Rocky River High School

Instructor: Ashley Morris

Speckled Rock

Poetry

Speckled Rock

I.
First

Pebbles laid out in a perfect path,
A single speckled rock stands out—
Black freckles sprinkle its surface
Stark against its cream-colored base.
Soft fingers curling around rough edges.

Next

Speckled rock, guest at a minute tea party.
Pot filled with sweet milk instead,
Tea—too bitter for a little mouth.
Two cups poured, only one drunk.
Close friends sip comforting silence.

Interrupted by

Plastic limbed Barbie, flawless makeup.
Rose pink car stuffed with rock star dresses.
Speckled rock lost to the drawer,
Surrounded by number two pencils
And drawings of imagined friends.

Now

Pencils laid out in a crooked line
Speckled rock found once again—
Black freckles sprinkle the surface
Stark against the dusty cream base—
Rough fingers curling around smoother edges.

What comes next?

II.

Remember when things were simple?
When gnarled wooden twigs became Great Swords?
We bartered mottled green bark for leaves
in the patch of weedy yellow blooms.

Remember when things brought wonder?
When a speckled rock became a person?
We sucked on wild chives, grown unbridled—
Our bare feet muddied on river banks.

Remember when it all changed?
When pointless numbers became our only goal.
We stumbled to reach the top that wasn't there.
Blind to the sticks and the rocks and the streams.

You can't go back now
To when gnarled wooden twigs became Great Swords,
When a speckled rock became a person,
When numbers were not our only goal.

But, you can start something new:
Balancing those numbers with rocks,
Soaking your sneakers in clean rain puddles,
Content to grow chives and thyme in boxes.

That is what I'll do
Want to join me?