For a time

For a time

You were everything.
Your smile
Lit sparks
That raced
Down my spine,

My heart skipped a beat
When you
Spoke to me.
The world paused
So we could run free.
You seemed so divine

For a time.

Things always change.
Forever’s a dream,
Every summer
Has rain.
I stopped being
The light in your world,

Once again
You’re a mystery girl.
I know you’ll find love,
I know you’re not mine,
But I want you to know
I was yours

For a time.

Ryan Stone

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En Passant

It wasn’t a spectacular leaf:
rather drab, too long from tree.
Yet, the life it clutched
in its five trembling points
turned my strides into steps
into stasis. I watched
as it danced,
sucking more from a gust
than nearby leaves
better suited to flying.
It spiraled away
to a lazuline sky
while I remained rooted;
going nowhere.

Ryan Stone

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Sneewittchen

Ten small moons
blank as bone,
not bright enough
to guide her home.
Five above, and
five below
in the land of Fae,
where cold winds blow.

A coffin, glass,
her beauty case;
asleep at last,
the maiden, chaste.
A mirror’s truth
first planted seed,
from poison springs
doom’s apple tree.

Cloaked in night
her hunter lies;
a queen deceived
by fourteen eyes.
Grim tales weave
through bloody looms.
In royal breast
a thawed rose blooms.

Ryan Stone

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First published in Poppy Road Review, March 2016.

Galaxies

Catch me a star, little spaceman,
he’d call, and I’d catch a breath of whiskey
and hand-rolled cigarettes, mingled
with the sweat of his shirt
as I tumbled back into strong hands.

My father would launch me
to the ceiling and ask,
How do the stars look up there?
And they were bright, the stars,
like his eyes far below. Bright
like the glint of his wedding band,
marking a safe place to land.

He’d hold me over his head, my arms
outstretched like Superman, whoosh
me all over the room. We’d loop and soar
until his strength gave out, somewhere
in the world below. Down in the world
where I stand tonight, my son whizzing by overhead—
wide eyes on the horizon, seeing galaxies
beyond the man gazing up and asking,
How do the stars look up there?

Ryan Stone