Blunted Edges

It was all angles once,

jagged edges,

quick to cut,

like a teenage girl

off to college

certain of her certainties

and disdainful

of careless handling.

But rivers are inexorable,

submitting all

to the rough and tumble;

the thunder of falls

and the swirling of eddies.

What emerges

is a softer thing,

still strong,

but now gentle, too.

Author's Note: I picked up this piece of old tile along the Quechee River in Vermont.

This is a Sunday Scribblings post.