Reanimated Lavender Granola Switchblade Nun rides again.

Tuesday, November 22, 2022

Stone House


There is a stone house
with a soft bed
on a metal frame.

The sheets are sky-stolen blue,
the blanket tartan.
I have the feeling I was

a child there, or died
or held someone with love
or was held.

The air is fragrant
like a meal just finished
or being prepared.

I feel sure that you are there
in the next room
or arriving or remembered.

I wrote this poem
yesterday or some other day
or will write it soon.

Now the door is open.
Come in.

Music: Cat Stevens Into White


  1. Rich with saudade, inexplicably sad and welcoming. Lovely, Shay.

  2. That is phenomenal. "Sky-stolen blue" is close to best all time. The progression to "or I will write it soon" decomposes us, time, presence, what is, was. The uncertainty of our certainty. Amazing.

  3. So beautiful, Shay. Again there is a wistfulness, but also a profound suspension in time and space that is more like a dream than any dream ever was. You word choices are honed and perfect, and the effect is stunning in its almost childlike innocence of artifice. I may have had a tear or two at this passage : "..I have the feeling I was/a child there, or died/or held someone with love.." Just lovely, loving writing.
    or was held.

  4. I love the stream of thought here that seems to capture time in a way as if it has no time in of itself. This is another one of your brilliant poems my friend. I just don't know how you do it, but am so glad you do!


Spirit, what do you wish to tell us?