Ripple
Poem: Skipping Stone by Ashley Eriksmoen 2015
Just in case you find yourself standing in front of a body of particularly smooth water with no skipping stones in sight, I have brought you one from the antipodes.
It was cleaved from the rock formations and worn by lapping waves until I found it on a tiny beach that looked like Paradise, on the shore of the estuary in Wapengo, New South Wales.
It travelled by car, by bus, by aeroplane, across an ocean and a continent, arriving here with you, waiting to be grasped between thumb and index knuckle, flung out against glass flat water to skip, skip, skip—one, two, three, hopefully four, possibly more— sending ripples back to its home shore.
Ripple (inside)
2017