days of stone

Tag: ryan stone

  • Back Road

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    In this threadbare landscapewhere patchwork fieldsstretch to the horizon,a red barn slouches—weathered and wornthrough all the long days,paint flaking under the sun. Surrounded by wheat husks,each stalk croaking secrets,forgotten, a scarecrow slumps—guardian of a dead land.Tattered garments hang limp, buttoneyes gaze sightless. Last sentinelagainst encroaching shadows. And still, there is beauty here.Where barn, field, and…

  • 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

  • Numb

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    In empty spaces echoes fade to silent grief, whispers on the wind Ryan Stone

  • After

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in ,

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

  • Sangria

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    the soft promise of what today may bring —mulberry sunrise Ryan Stone

  • Sleep

    Sleep

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in ,

    on silvery trails thru the night we tripped, past the wall into the sky— swallowed by infinity Ryan Stone

  • The Journey Home

    The Journey Home

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in ,

    She tells me her pain is a squall, sudden and vicious, like a flash storm whipping in from Bass Strait to batter King Island. Do you remember our Island, Garth? Her doctors build shelters; nurses batten hatches, but this tempest won’t blow over. She says her pain is a vulture now, circling the desert on…

  • In Passing

    In Passing

    —

    by

    Ryan Stone
    in

    After all the years, the heart-shaped promises, a Ponts des Arts love lock one Spring, it has come now to this — a sterile room, too-small-for-two bed, plastic flowers, faint urine smell. Standing bedside, she strokes and hums, remembers a warm night by the sea. The setting sun kisses white hair golden. Tremors become twitches,…

  • 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.…