The Stones

I am in orbit around the wall.

As I draw near, the stones

Rub softly against my fingers.

The crevices beckon to

Receive my supplication.

The stones caress my hands.

They are soft stones.

They will take my

Case to the

Highest of Courts,

They are persistent in their

Mission

The stones will not let me

Wander too far,

They have been caressed by

Too many a hand,

Too many requests

Are still in their clefts,

As they go on

Keeping me

In orbit

I cannot break free

Even though

there is dirt

Beneath my fingernails

As I