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Mean Grandpa Story
I was skipping stones in the Clackamas River and grandpa told me this story.
Once there was a stone.
She lived just about where you are standing.
She lived here for millions of years
and witnessed many interesting things.
then one day a boy carelessly tossed the stone into the river.
And she died.
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That is indeed a sad tale from a grandpa.
Wonder why?
Is this for real?
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That is indeed a sad tale from a grandpa.
Wonder why?
Is this for real?
http://www.connectingsingles.com/BlogCommentAdd.aspx?id=2830
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Snow52...... My take on the poem is, the stone was living quite happily or existing in its' site for eons, then one day a boy without any thought at all, casually picked it up and threw it into the water....... for every action there is a reaction. 
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This never happened. I did have a grandfather with a wonderful imagination, and he used to say things like this, once in a while to teach me something. I wrote this for him. He would have liked it, i think.
Once, while driving in the country in idaho, he slammed on the brakes and said "I saw One! Do you see it?"
and i said, WHat?! What did you see?
"I saw one of those Artisians!"
If anyone remembers those old beer commercials.
And that's a true story.
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My granddad was a smoker who rolled his own. With the purchase of every tin of Prince Albert, he would take out his pocketknife and methodically scrape the picture from the front and back. After many years of witnessing this, I finally asked him why he did it. He replied that "Ol' Prince Albert's been sittin' on this can for 60 years that I know of. Thought he might be needin' to stretch his laigs fer a spell."
Coming from a family of travelers and knowing much of stones and rivers and having "skipped" at rivers all over North America, I've always seen it simply as having helped a bit with the migration. After all, are not all river stones eventually destined for the sea? To a stone, or a traveler, there can never be true death, only a continuation of the journey...
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