Stone Is Not Stone
There was a time when stone was stone
And a face on the street was a
finished face.
Between the Thing, myself and God alone
There was an
instant symmetry.
Since you have altered all my world this trinity is
twisted:
And faces like the fractioned characters in dreams are
incomplete
Until in the child's inchoate face
I recognize your exiled
eyes.
The soldier climbs the glaring stair leaving your shadow.
Tonight,
this torn room sleeps
Beneath the starlight bent by you.