A short piece from Maia's Well

Little stepping stones of joy

I’m crossing the river and that’s what it is

But I get some choice as to where to put my feet.

There’s a gem of a rock, the taste of sweet cereal carried by a lover’s hand.

The next stone rings, and I step and answer and I hear the voice of a friend who is on his way.

This next one is big enough to sit on and rest a moment, and the little dog upon it puts her face next to mine because she knows I can’t reach for her right now.

And the noseeums dance and laugh and the river flows and

Really

There is nothing wrong here.