days of stone

Tag: love

  • Saudade

    Saudade

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

  • Mother’s Hands

    Mother’s Hands

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    Advertisement for Myers Gloves, by Margaret Watkins (Canada), 1920s. Mother’s Hands Strong enough to lift me each time I couldn’t rise. Soft as cotton wool, washing dirt from scrapes and tears from eyes. Firm enough to model clay and boys, to bowls and men, yet fine when stroking ivory keys– Für Elise and Clair de…

  • Stuff Cops Know

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    Lunacy lives in the full face of the moon, blood has infinite shades of red. The perfect crime doesn’t exist. Every contact leaves a trace. When there’s nothing to gain, people can still be evil. When there’s everything to lose, people may surprise you. Occasionally there is honour among thieves. There are multiple truths, perspective…

  • The Walk

    The Walk

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    I wake a full hour early for the rare gift of a walk in the woods with my father. He is a silent giant among misty ghost gums. I tell him, Watch! See how fast I can run. He doesn’t yell when I trip and fall, but lifts me with unfamiliar, calloused hands. At the…

  • Like Grass

    Like Grass

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    I’ll bend, you know. Each time you kick or stomp me underfoot. Though sustenance is rare as winter sun, I’ll thrive, you know and grow to cover every corner of the meadow where you lie. I’ll rise, you know. Rise and rise– I’ll rise. Ryan Stone

  • Divorce

    Divorce

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in , ,

    From this bridge of sighs They watch the chasm sunder Here, where dreaming ends Ryan Stone

  • Reflection

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    by

    Ryan Stone
    in , ,

    Above the still lake A smoke and pepper patchwork Birds entering clouds Ryan Stone

  • Owl Song

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    Full moon to you I sing this tune— bright streams, hidden dells, clouds and dreams sublime. Ours to share, for all time. Ryan Stone

  • After

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in ,

    funeral flowers wilting in quiet corners… so hard to let go Ryan Stone

  • When Love Fails

    When Love Fails

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    Adrift in deep space, an astronaut lost, no wind to feather still sails. Oblivious world uncaring turns, in silence as oxygen fails. Ryan Stone