Tag: shadows

  • Tōrō Nagashi

    Your flame flickers briefly— a parting whisper. Some trick of the river mimics your laughter. We stand apart at sunset, lost in natsukashii, come together in darkness, to watch the dead pass on. Your light has fallen now to shadow beneath the bridge. Ryan Stone First published on Napalm and Novocain, January 2016 Published at Poetry…

  • I’ll not tread lightly

    I’ll not tread lightly

    Remember school days and how we would play like there was no tomorrow? Now the castles we made are the price we must pay or flounder in oceans of sorrow. Roaming wild and free, building houses in trees as worlds waltzed to discordant tunes– like a zephyr through grass, gilded summer days passed, left us…

  • Breaking Point

    Breaking Point

    Pa, I see you in your shed– unaware of dusk settling over your garden, painting your pink crabapple blossoms grey. I see you bend, to squint at some small imperfection marring the wooden soldier you’ve spent the whole day carving, hands slow-dancing to a tune no-one else can hear. Later Ma will shake her head,…

  • Ethereal Planes

    Ethereal Planes

    Above fields, bright paper planes fly While dark the shadows dance below. Like dreams released come morning’s rise Above fields, bright paper planes fly. In silence waits the blackened sky, The final pitch, night’s all star throw. Above fields bright, paper planes fly, While dark the shadows dance below. Ryan Stone

  • Back Road

    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…

  • Depression

    Depression

    Pitch black, careening down a track in vain before a dark freight train blasts past. Underneath, peace at last. Ryan Stone

  • Riders in the Night

    Riders in the Night

    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.…

  • Teacher

    Teacher

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

  • Whispers

    Whispers

    I am he who worships Spring in moonlit mountain shallows. I am he who watches you, insubstantial shadow. I am he who brings night’s ship safe to morning’s shore. I am he who loves you, your servant, evermore. Ryan Stone

  • The Grey Mornings

    The Grey Mornings

    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…