On A Flat Stone

If I wrote your name on a flat stone and threw it into a field wildflowers would grow bees would hum hummingbirds would glide birds would walk a little slower If I threw it across a lake it would dance to the other side popping each bubble it encountered and settle on the other shore waiting for a return flight If I buried it under a black walnut tree lava would stop and compass point the gibbous moon would hide what was left of her face clouds would laugh burst and cry All this because your name was written on a sun-warmed flat stone once held in the palm of my heart and tossed away.