Perfect stone
that fit perfectly
into the palm
of his hand
as if God
had fashioned
it for it
my uncle skims
the smoothness of the stone
across the surface of the Crosshaven sea
where after 3
perfect skips
it hits
the horizon
knocking the sun
down with a gong
staining the water.
Dónall Dempsey
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/as-we-turned-to-go/
