Two days ago, I went out to the yard to see a friend and I glanced down. On the ground amongst the gravel was a heart shaped stone.

My thoughts:

A sign!

I quickly grabbed the stone and pocked it with shades of, I hope the police weren’t waiting to swarm the moment I picked it up. (they weren’t) but it is one of the odd effects of being locked up for so many years, you always feel you are the bad guy and you are doing something wrong…I don’t know.

So I pocketed the stone, in my head questioning it’s purpose. Why did I find you today? In that moment, I had shade of deja vu, like I wrote something once about a heart of stone. But I couldn’t quite remember. It was just a feeling that there was something more. So I went and dug through my old books and there it was…and old poem I wrote about a heart of stone. Here’s what I found:

Grey days break

over a formless music

that remembered oblivion

So many times

he lived on only a memory

in that silence

Ancient corpses

and broken sand dollars

rising and falling

against the ashen

driftwood of yesterday

His shores lined

with the trees of regret

deep lilacs

forming

clandestine cages

around serpentine sorrows

All his prayers

were carried away

by the wolves

of the breakwater

The boy’s age

a little older

his mountains

the darkening land

of old transelvanias

His question

the only thing

that begged the fading light

“If only my heart were stone