Throwing rocks into a lake, skipping them just right,
watching as they dance across the surface, a delight-
ful pastime to be sure.
Especially when a youngster, landscapes of cacti, palo
verde and mesquite trees in the background, hoping to
keep things real, not wanting to mar nature's beauty
in a poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem