PRECIOUS.

Over the course of an average week
I amass a fine collection
Of rocks in my pocket,
Thanks to Harry’s habit
Of picking them up wherever we walk,
And having me carry them
Once I’ve told him for the nineteenth time
Not to chime them together,
Or tap the tops of walls,
Or dig vigorously for them;

As he generates enough kinetic energy
Simply by enlivening
The surfaces he slides along
Without striking sparks
From the shards of earth he feels worthy
Of his attention,
Not to mention the fact that he attracts
The magnificent gaze of the sun
Wherever he runs,
And doesn’t need to breed more.

And so I safeguard these random stones
Until we get home
Then forget I’ve got them
Until loose change
Is fished for the next day in the superstore,
And I find more than I bargained for,
And I have to remember to release them
Once again
So there will be enough sweet gems
For him to find before our morning walk.