The Decoration Rock

She likes to browse through crystals
In the rock shop, searching out
The perfect combination

Of an odd shape, rare color,
And the right feel in the hand.
She’s building her collection

Of inexpensive prizes.
You peer over her shoulder.
For you it’s combination

Of pieces, not the perfect
Combination of the piece.
What could lines of small stones do,

The dull and ordinary
Phrased between the unusual?
You don’t want a mosaic,

Just a suggestive pattern
That could attract attention
Enough to yield a meaning

That no one could have foreseen—
Not the owner of the shop,
Not the crystal collector,

Not your imagination
Arranging combinations—
Only the nonexistent,

Other you, arrived later,
Puzzling over the pattern,
Ascribing meaning to it.