Under rocks

I tried to generate destiny once,
scraping dreams from under
over-buffed rocks no longer showing signs
of weather sprinkled over millennia.

I suppose the clinical approach to fate
leaves little to chance and I often think
the odds that I somehow found you
preposterously implausible.

But here we are. Winds pound rocks
into sand and I count myself lucky
that I no longer have to sift, looking for
what I’ve managed to uncover in you.

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© 2021 | Phillip Knight Scott

Prompts for this one:

• Fandango’s One Word Challenge – “generate“
• pensitivity‘s three things: “pound” “scrape” “buff”