I am the stone
that breaks
every heart.
I am the stone
the masterbuilder
rejected.
I am the stone
in the flesh
of your cherry.
I am the stone
in the shoe of
your pilgrimage.
The dried pulse,
the irritant
beneath the
mattress of your
sleeplessness.
I am the stone,
scatterer of crows.
I am the stone
left unturned.
I am the stone
broken by windows.
I am the stone
that breaks
every heart.
About the Author: Bill Lewis is a writer, artist, teacher, and performance artists from Kent, England.
Copyright © 1996 by Bill Lewis. The poem first appeared in The Wine of Connecting, published by Lazerwolf Press. It may not be reproduced in any form without the author’s express written permission.