My Rainforest Rock

I walk home from school along the bumpy path,
Picking up rocks to throw in the river,
A smooth, round pebble looks up at me,
Through a clump of reeds,
Half hidden in the roots of the plants.
Before I head home I look at the pebble,
Just like me, it’s lonely, hidden away,
simply ignored by everyone.
I pick it up and take it home.
In my room I take my paint and brushes,
meticulously with light strokes,
begin to layer a rainforest.
The boy playing in the river reminds me of my brother,
the way he always stood up for me
comforted me in the darkest hours.
Five years later,
the pebble stays in my pocket whereever I go,
Sometimes I take it out and just share it.
I clasp it in my fingers,
and get a brief sense of home