Token (Poetry)

I gave my love a pebble
moulded by warm summer seas,
smooth as an egg and pure
in its marbled symmetry.

Chosen from a million others
tossed shorewards by the waves'
revolving drum that polished them -
this one the perfect gift.

Pale and solid in his palm,
its weight a tiny measure of the ocean's wealth,
he rolled it, smiling as though, instinctively,
he understood its worth.