The Art of Cutting Stones

Luz E Aponte

Luz E Aponte

Sitting on a curbside
in a ghetto in Bombay
the yellow dog & I wondered
how we got there & why
without even a leash

We hadn’t a rupee
to our name or passport
After two days we ate grass
to stay our raging hunger
and chewed rocks

It was a little boy
found us Sat & asked us
Did we know how to cut stone?
Grandfather’d taught him
he said with pride

Take any stone
cut it in two & at the heart
you’ll find a seed Gather seeds
and you could bake bread
and be well fed

We have no oven!
we answered him bemused
certain this but his way to play
Oh yes you do he whispered
and offered us a leaf

So it was we learned
the art of cutting stones
gathering seeds & leaves & sticks
and never hungered since
nor required any leash


About Peter Notehelfer

I'm a retired people person who now finds the time to watch the little details of the world without worrying about being watched by anyone . . . I live on an Island north of Seattle with my wife named Ellen, a yellow dog named McGee, a yellow cat named Gatzby, and four fine chickens . . . I read fiction, bake bread, smoke salmon, and fish whenever the weather allows . . . Oh, and yes, I try to write a poem every day simply to avoid senility!
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3 Responses to The Art of Cutting Stones

  1. a veritable parable

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Morgan says:

    Inspiring ! Thank you 😊

    Liked by 1 person

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