Small boy
He picked up a pebble
and threw it into the sea.And another, and another.
He couldn’t stop.He wasn’t trying to fill the sea.
He wasn’t trying to empty the beach.He was just throwing away,
nothing else but.Like a kitten playing
he was practicing for the futurewhen there’ll be so many things
he’ll want to throw awayif only his fingers will unclench
and let them go.“Small boy,” by Norman MacCaig from Collected Poems (Random House).