A dull pain pushes into my foot.
The pebble gets wedged in the sand.

A dull pain pushes into my foot.
The pebble gets wedged in the sand.
So smooth, untouched, and solid.
Unlike the tiny granules that hold it down.
But as the water rushes in gurgling,
The wet black surface is flush with the rest.
The sun flashes, moon after moon passes.
I bend down to examine this infiltrator.
Fingernails eat up dirt as I unlodge it.
Brush it off, dip it in water, it is like new.
I cast it southward,
skips, bounces, spinning round.
Without a sound,
wave swallows it whole.
And I look down at the hole that I made.
The water retreats and leaves a puddle.
I rake the sand with my toes and continue wading.