Coal pressed under hard granite over years becomes the stone that reassures her that she is loved.
A proton of light travels across the universe for twenty-nine years narrowly avoiding rocks and planets until it reaches my eye on a night when I was feeling lonely.
On a hike I stop to pick up a rock and wonder if I am the first to have seen what is underneath.
A Redwood, borne from the ground, climbs until it is eighty and it is buried with a man born on the same day, both now polished underground.
Water collects in a cloud on a hot day over the pacific, a strong north wind starves a forest but drowns a family.
A man lives for eighty-seven years and dies.