Cut Stones, B.Frauman

Cut Stones

By Barry Frauman


Barefoot on a sea of rocks

beneath a sky of white-gray ice,

I wipe my bleeding soles

against the smooth maroons and yellows,

all the while yearning

for the jagged blacks and greens

to pierce my feet again again,

jolting a thrill into bone and nerve

that crashes me to this knife-sharp bed.