What a Stone Feels
<this is the first assignment I wrote for the Paul Kingsnorth - " Rewild Your Words " online course we took in December which is how our Poetry/Writing Sunday Salon got started. I'm CC:ing the other participants so they can see by example how to post their own work to this blog via e-mail> On my property there are many river-stones that were almost surely brought here by previous humans. I could have closed my eyes, my ears, my nose and groped around until I found them, channeling Helen Keller perhaps... but I did not... I sought out a particularly apt stone for this purpose, with my eyes and my memory. I have hefted these stones before and even know what they smell and taste like. I passed over the pile brought in for the purpose of facing a wall, each about fist-sized... not too large to throw effectively but too large for a sling or slingshot. I avoided the ones marking the good-dogs grave near the entrance to the property. The stone I choose requi