Transfiguration

Petrified, my heart
Refuses your vain entreaties
Deny the charm of your
Silver-plated words
Which do insinuate
Like cold serpents.
Give me your kiss of sin
So I may spit the poison
Into the well of your being
Which I devour —
A rapacious beast.

Stone Sentry

In the tingling cold
The lion’s mane
Grows large and bold
Coated by a gentle snow
His stone façade
Becomes a show
Of tranquil night
And calming deep
A vigilant guard, at last
Asleep

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Dowsing

The stone doesn’t yield
Don’t seek water where there’s none
Hope instead, for rain