............Would You Do The Same Poem by elysabeth faslund

I turn the rock over, over, in intentional soft hands,
accidentally rough hands....
wondering.
Should I, could I, break the mirror....
splintering images waiting, hooked
on tomorrow's wall,
shattering slivers of a butterfly
that almost was.
Never totality.
Always 'a few moments more.'
The butterfly watches my hands....
its Today.
I will not touch the mirror.

Will the rock shatter water into mirrors
lapping distant shores,
sanded feet, urchins face up
to a sun, setting....
or drift soundlessly bottomward,
disturbing only seaweed fronds?

One rock. One time.
Mirror. Sea.
I give the rock to the air.
It, alone, holds the sun,
for me.