So many kinds of stones give me concern, besides the one in my shoe. Gallstones, kidney stones, calcifications in the heart and knees; otoliths even, the pebbles in the inner ear that say which way is up, dancing their orientation beneath the lintels of Stonehenge. Some monoliths I also find confusing. Are the people climbing stairs inside the Washington Monument patriotic or exercising their right to free vision? Is the Egyptian obelisk in the Place de la Concorde really part of Paris anymore? Do Minneapolis skyscrapers scrape anything; and how does the sky feel about that, with all the rest of Minnesota to cover? What about lithographs, the stony faces people make on paper; petroglyphs pecked ages ago into eons-old rock; pictographs left on waterside cliffs at Hegman Lake? There is a way to know. Touch the stone. Feel what moves.