The sage, the kid, and the pebble.

I am not a poet!

Okay, the voice stated.

Then it waited...

...Patiently...

For the kid

To listen

To the sound

Of the gentle breeze.

I am not a poet

Alright, said the sage

Who sat with no rage

Quietly

Beside the kid

Waiting to

Hear what more

She had to say.

I am not a...

Aha, I heard you

Like for the first two times

If you are not a poet

Then...what are you, kid?

At this the kid

Stared, gazed,

Into the sage's

Supernova like eyes

All three (oOo)

(the third eye was open, too).

The kid picked up a pebble

And tossed it

That pebble bounced

Across the water

Like a tiny, smooth ball

Until they finally heard a

*plop*

The pebble went

Deep into the belly

Of the pond.

The sage chuckled.

Smiled at the kid,

And then said,

You are not a poet,

But a good pebble tosser!

Written on Juneteenth.