one more stone.

wholly lady i speak

eating air beside,

the tree whose blood of mine

grew upon.

like Medusa eyes

of stone rolled under mine,

I knew I had hid

from you all;

i could not

stir the moon-thief

in my strange dreams

who knew the gives

of i want,

turning one more stone

here is the bud.

© 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.

15 responses to “one more stone.”

  1. Though we are beautifully alive this January, this poem heralds the coming of spring for me. I read it as one might read a treasured book; word by careful word, savoring the experience of turning a page or rolling over one more stone in preparation for the next silvered emotion.
    Thank you for sharing this!

    Liked by 2 people

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