Rannaton Kivi

Roots deep in ground,
they are not for me.
I am a shoreless stone,
not a tree.

When the tide’s been quiet
for too long,
the waters shift,
without control.

Like a polished pebble
tossed by lake’s will,
with stray socks I ride,
tumbling in life’s machine.

Is there a moor
out there for me?
From shore to shore
I keep seeking it.