Doors turn to stone.

Words sear skin.

Rock windows stand

where light once played.

Walls that let angry arrows through

become stone too.

No one gets in.

No one gets


Pieces moving inside


I am only stone.



4 thoughts on “Stone

  1. Oh wow. There’s a certain straightforwardness in the choice of imagery that makes it sound so natural and common-sense, and yet, not really. Because their is an evident intelligence (not so common!) in the way the images depict the concept, no more, no less. Such a short poem and yet so potent. I should learn how to do this too. I’m glad I visited!

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