Saturday, 2 January 2010



his hands close around the stone
the ball of his thumb resting
against the hole
then turning, turning
deosil – never widdershins –
rubbing our a wish
from the fabric of the universe
until he feels her close –
her breath on his cheek,
he fingers tracing the line of his jaw
and he opens his eyes,
hoping to see his long-dead love
but she is gone –
gone into the wind and the rain
and the crashing of the surf.
He seeks another stone,
certain the right one
will bring her back.


aims said...

This made my house guest very teary-eyed.

His ex-fiancee just passed away and they had stones together.....

Leatherdykeuk said...

Oh! I'm so sorry.

aims said...

Ah Sweetie. I believe - that even when you words bring memories and pain - that it is a good pain. A sweet sort of release - because your words are kind - not meant harshly at all - and they heal in a way.

My house guest wears a stone around his neck. It has a hole in it that the leather is threaded through.

He and his ex-fiancee had stones that were broken in 3 places and they kept them together - feeling like they meant something.

Please - don't be sorry for your wonderful words.

Leatherdykeuk said...

Thank you aims. I appreciate you reassuring me.

spacedlaw said...

Perfect picture (great stones! are you going to do anything with them?) and wonderful poem.

Leatherdykeuk said...

Thanks Nathalie. They're destined to be embellishments in the arty mirrors, I think. I collected about twenty.

stephanie said...

Oh! What a lament. This is beautiful.

Leatherdykeuk said...

Thanks Stephanie :)