First Deaths published at Algebra of Owls

A big thank you to Paul and the team at Algebra of Owls for publishing my poem – First Deaths.

Link: https://algebraofowls.com/2019/01/20/first-deaths-by-ryan-stone/

Sleep

along quicksilver trails
thru the night
we tripped,

past the wall,
into the sky—

swallowed by infinity

Ryan Stone

The Walk

I wake a full hour early
for the rare gift
of a walk in the woods
with my father.

He is a silent giant
among misty ghost gums.
I tell him, Watch!
See how fast I can run.

He doesn’t yell when I trip
and fall, but lifts me
with unfamiliar,
calloused hands.

At the end of the trail
I study my grazes—jagged
and bloody. He tells me
he’s leaving my mum.

On the walk home
I gaze at the gum trees
and fragmented clouds, thinking
they should look different somehow.

Ryan Stone

first published at Poetry Nook, 1st place Week 185

The Weight

One drunken night, he lay on the coach road
and she lay beside him. He pictured a truck
descending–wobbling around corners,
gaining momentum. They spoke about crushes,

first kisses. He told her of an older woman
who’d stolen a thing he couldn’t replace.
He tried to describe the weight of lost things.
She listened until he stopped,
until I stopped

hiding behind he. I felt small,
watching the cosmos churn
while I lay on the coach road
one summer night,
speaking of big things
and nothing.

Ryan Stone

first published at Algebra of Owls, November 2016

Republished for dVerse poetics – Poems That Could Save Your Life – this friendship saved mine.

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Wedding Poem

– for Kara & James

It’s a fleeting moment–
a red sky at twilight,
rushing to the long night;
the last russet leaf
clinging to bough
as autumn inhales,

breathes out.

You know this, you’ve felt it
in the grey light of dawn,
in that pause
between waking and finding.
You’ve heard it whisper
through the dry grass
of summer–a promise
tossed on the wind.

Yesterday’s smoke
blows over fields,
tomorrow hides
inside dreams.
This hand in your hand
is the one, the only
true kingdom

under the sun.

Ryan Stone

image

Dying Light

From my porch
I watch thunderheads
battering high noon
into bruised twilight.
I see you climb
from under eaves,
awakened
by a pressure change.
As the storm inhales
you leap and spin,
leap and spin
your web — knowing
your time to build
is fleeting.

Ryan Stone

F = Gm1m2 / r2

It’s gravity, baby

and that’s how it started —
three whispered words
under the bleachers,
two bodies
thrown into orbit.

Almost as quickly,
those starburst nights
of lying thisclose
went supernova.

There’s a point
during free-fall,
a pause
to consider
whether to brace
or just to surrender –

for a heartbeat or two
it feels like you’re floating,
then the ground rushes up
to show you how endings
can sound like beginnings

but that’s
just gravity,
baby.

Ryan Stone

Where Children Fly

Beyond the reach of
dragon-flight, maids of Odin
in Autumn mists cry

for fair Honah-Lee
slipped from sight, to vaults only
Valkyries dare fly.

Passing beyond time
and meaning, no longer tied
with shackles, earthbound–

soaring realms golden
and gleaming, far away from
the dark underground.

Ryan Stone

Today at dVerse we’re exploring the underground.