A Pebble in His Pocket

The poet Dean Tweets a picture daily,
his pebble of the day,
some imprinted with fossils,
one is like a dragon’s egg,
the other the devil’s eye.
I wonder if he takes them home, in his pocket
or under his oxter and I remember
the otter rubbing his river sleek fur
with a rock in each paw, giving himself
an early morning massage. Later he floated
on his back and jungled his rocks for fun.
In Winter he will tuck them into his empty cheeks
to stave off hunger, he might keep
the same rock for all his life,
tucked away safely in a pocket of skin.