Brick and Stones, I washed you away in my
forever lasting glance on water.
When I see you move, like remaining joys of peace
on grass you grew, from dim lights below.

I see what sprouted from your beginning,
what got you to where you are now.
And you feel so light, so positive -
So ready for the acorn filth that must latch onto you.

As your back breached onto the trunk of a tree,
to when you lay your head back 
and reminisce on each root.

As if a downward inflection should have 
precedence on the now.
The ducks won't agree with angst like it.

It's fitting when we feel these drops of rain, 
we think our pain should surface.
but i feel nothing but now.