Cobblestone

I have my rock, my hill. So, every day
My task, though hard, is known. And as I roll
My rock, its weight seems always to convey
A certain satisfaction to the soul.
Near sunset-time, just before I can see
The highest point, I purposely let go.
My rock responds and. thanks to gravity,
Takes its own way back to the plain below.
I follow willingly, our duties done,
And grateful that another day's in store,
And glad to think my rock and I are one
In labor and meaning. Surely, more
Is not to be expected; surely we 
Will have out task throughout eternity.

Sisyphus's Pet Rock, by Thomas Carper


I must say I am not feeling nearly such equanimity regarding my work week.

Sometimes you come across a rock that is so satisfying you just want to keep it around. We have rocks sitting in all sorts of places in and around the house. This is an especially round cobble that I brought back from the shore and eventually left on this stump near the entrance to a small path running in the woods alongside the field in front of the house. No worries, I did not pilfer it from the park or pry it loose from a bridge or anything, I actually had some legitimate claim to this particular rock.