A flat round stone will serve you best.
With a sidearm toss and a flick of the wrist
The trick is to hit the surface
At twenty degrees precisely.
The force from the water
Is proportional to the squared speed of the stone.
A game of ducks and drakes
Is what draws me to the shore,
A practised squanderer wondering
How many bounces I will manage this time.
There is always this stillness
When I am throwing my stones.
A mathematical formula
To describe my life has not yet been found,
Although it may exist.From what I read,
Numbers are capable of limitless feats.
Meanwhile,it’s back to the seashore for me,
And practise,practise,practise.
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