Whenever I see
my stones
a three,
I pause—
to know,
to sigh, to be.
In all I have done,
or not, or failed—
in all
of this,
my three prevailed.
My three who worked
their way to me,
to crack the calm,
the storm,
the sea.
My three are here,
they freed the caves.
I watch them now,
they skip the waves.
by Melanie MacDonald
