Here is a poem by Mike stone!



Raanana, December 4, 2012

There was a certain ring to her name,

Quite a certain ring, yes?

Like a poem calls up a sea of feeling

That laps at the boundary of meaning.

What does that mean,

That ring,

That feeling?

That reminds me of a time when

That lone house in the field where she lived

When time flew over the waves of summer wheat

Like birds,

Like shrouds of cloud,

The boundary between when and where,

Also a kind of lapping.

The ring to her name,

Love does that, doesn’t it?

That and the boundary

Between her skin and mine.


Another Boundary

Raanana, December 5, 2012

You go for a walk in the dead of winter

Over a frozen lake covered with snow.

You stoop down to brush away the soft wet crystals

And under the thick grey ice

You see a child whose lips are…

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