Rubble

You call it rubble;
A heap of rocks.
I see a treasure trove.
Pick up a rock.
Can you feel the energy?
Millions of years in the palm of your hand.
Look at the colors, the patterns;
There is a golden shimmer in this one;
A crystal clarity in that one.
Each calls to me;
Wanting to tell its story.

Published by JJJ Interactive Books

Books and poetry.

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