days of stone

Tag: alone

  • Hourglass

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    We walk the tide line barefoot on the morning sand, your steps close by mine. Later, I return alone but no trace of us remains. Ryan Stone

  • Riders in the Night

    Riders in the Night

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    Outside, in the distance a wild cat did growl two riders were approaching the wind began to howl. -Bob Dylan Hoofbeats on the tundra! Beneath a mage’s moon she draws her shutters closely, prays morning finds her soon. Thunder shatters silence, a rapping at her door tears the night asunder– a wild cat’s chilling roar.…

  • Ghosts at Dawn

    Ghosts at Dawn

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    Too thin – you now exist within a pause as dawn retracts her claws from day; you fade, while I must stay. Ryan Stone

  • Tempest

    Tempest

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    Wind, blow – lift me high, don’t let go; fly me far, above sand and sea. Monsoon – take me, let’s chase the moon. – Ryan Stone

  • Shades

    Shades

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    Her kiss at dawn is what I miss the most – as day break sings a ghost refrain: love dims to dust and pain. Ryan Stone

  • No One

    No One

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    dawn pauses, explodes in a flash of carmine fire flaring in the east flaring in the east, Icarus ascends his throne – blazing flight of one blazing flight of one, Labyrinth behind, no one makes it out alone – Ryan Stone Written for National Poetry Month 2016 @ The Music In It – Being Alone

  • Teacher

    Teacher

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    A wail of sirens makes her pale with fear, returns her to the year she stole a cub from his foxhole. Ryan Stone

  • Sneewittchen

    Sneewittchen

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    Ten small moons blank as bone, not bright enough to guide her home. Five above, and five below in the land of Fae, where cold winds blow. A coffin, glass, her beauty case; asleep at last, the maiden, chaste. A mirror’s truth first planted seed, from poison springs doom’s apple tree. Cloaked in night her…

  • The Grey Mornings

    The Grey Mornings

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in ,

    I start at the sound of each car passing on midnight streets outside; hoping it’s you, knowing it isn’t. Dreams fade with your warmth as reality slowly intrudes: it would be enough to fall into your arms and know I’d wake there, too. I am only real when you are near, but you never stay…

  • Years

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    faded doll, old memories shelved Ryan Stone