The stone I found was dirty,
On the path of my walk,
But something reminded me
Of older times,
Children searching fossils
Down the lane.
I always see them,
Playing in the trees,
Abandoned now
For lives in London.
But I hold the pebbles dear,
Embodiments of times past,
My sons -
And laughter.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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