Stone and Dog

I met a stone on my walk
this morning in the sun
he told me stop and gaze.
I did - he said: You see ...
The dog sniffed and tugged
we bounced so fast away.

The stone man I shall visit
again and again and again
for he wanted me to see
what I never noticed or saw.
Made of feldspar, glimmer -
a granite unformed we.

Was I wrong never to hold
his glance for unmitigated fear
of facing his solemn reality?
Or was I right to pounce upon
the dog's way sauntering
along the trail of tears happily?

On my morning's dog walk
sometimes eternity glimpses
more often a minute stands
I wait for the dog to do her thing
sniffing a stone - remarking
life is just a basic day's span.