Skipping Stones

Rounded smooth
Mostly flat
The perfect stone must fit
In hand comfortably
With index finger extended
Along the back edge
Firmly

With a step forward
And twist of the body
A side-arm sling
Low to the water
Whip and a fling
Last bit to touch the stone
Finger

The aim is out
Not up
Forward
Not down
A trajectory of perfect velocity
And angle to deflect the earth
And skip

Skip.......
Skip......
Skip.....
Skip....
Skip
Skip
Skip

A­nd then the sink
To bottom
Lost forever
After giving it’s life
To a perfect skip
Across the water leaving
Rings