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 All Rights Reserved.

Categories: Poetry

Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

15 replies

  1. Mesmerizing…my eyes just hungrily glided over your words.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Your ending makes me think of spring… with that bulb hidden under the stones poking its head up through the soil! My daffodils are four inches tall!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Eating air beside the whole lady, great line! Love it!

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Potential novel or novella here.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. 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

  6. I especially like the ending of this one,
    “turning one more stone
    here is the bud.”
    It speaks to me of the continued need to actively seek and new growth to come.

    Liked by 2 people

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