Tag Archives: Alison Stone

Drizzling Ghazal
by Alison Stone

Picnic—We flirt and eat cake in the rain.
Bad actors banter and run through fake rain.

Classics’ women vanquished by weather. They
faint in heat, take sick from wind, shake in rain.

Two low-yield years. Barn mortgaged, fields planted,
the farmer waits—so much at stake—for rain.

Does anything depend on these nut-brown
ducks next to a silver rake in the rain?

Camp memories—Color Wars, burnt s’mores, scent
of pine. Her first kiss. A snake in the rain.

Centuries of harassment, abuse. Time’s
Up, women chant. Buried seeds wake in rain.

The drizzle. The stray ball. The child. The truck.
What happens next? Can he brake in the rain?

Bodies absorb sorrow. The earth takes back
our bones. Flame swallows paper; the lake, rain.

What do the old know? What secrets hide in
lines, whisper from joints that ache in the rain?

Too much screen-time. Up your exposure to
flowers, Alison, your intake of rain.

 

Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 21, Issue 1.

Alison StoneAlison Stone has published five poetry collections, including Ordinary Magic, (NYQ Books, 2016), Dangerous Enough (Presa Press 2014), and They Sing at Midnight, which won the 2003 Many Mountains Moving Poetry Award. She has been awarded Poetry’s Frederick Bock Prize and New York Quarterly’s Madeline Sadin award. A licensed psychotherapist, she has private practices in NYC and Nyack. www.stonepoetry.org www.stonetarot.com

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Timely Ghazal
by Alison Stone

Things you can’t control—love, weather, grace, time.
My favorite cliché is race against time.

Like an undertow, her phone sucks my teen
daughter into YouTube, Snapchat, FaceTime.

Our elm’s branches brought the power lines down.
In darkness, distortion of sound, space, time.

Time may change me—Bowie’s cranked-up voice
drifts from a passing car—but you can’t trace time.

She let her hair go silver, wears her lined
face without shame. Her motto—Embrace time.

Death is a salesman, shoes worn from peddling
silence, blank brochures, a briefcase of time.

My mother’s cancer isn’t novel. Nor
is yours. Our worst griefs commonplace as time.

In the high-tech future, will metal eggs
grow children, computer code replace time?

Focused on Eternity, poets tend
to lateness, sloppy with lowercase time.

Miss Havisham’s stopped clocks. White Rabbit’s watch.
Welles’ machine. Classics, a showcase for time.

Not all wounds heal. Not Columbine, Sandy
Hook. Not Parkland. Some don’t erase with time.

In a dream I float between stones and stars.
Wake with wisps of another name, place, time.

 

Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 20, Issue 4.

Alison StoneAlison Stone has published five poetry collections, including Ordinary Magic, (NYQ Books, 2016), Dangerous Enough (Presa Press 2014), and They Sing at Midnight, which won the 2003 Many Mountains Moving Poetry Award. She has been awarded Poetry’s Frederick Bock Prize and New York Quarterly’s Madeline Sadin award. A licensed psychotherapist, she has private practices in NYC and Nyack. www.stonepoetry.org www.stonetarot.com

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Chill
by Alison Stone

Blood test. Doctor on the phone. The cold.
Emily’s zero at the bone. That cold.

The child forced to choose&emdash;which parent to
become, which to betray. Two paths. One cold.

My heart&emdash;eight ounces of muscle holding
maiden eagerness. A mother’s grief. Crone cold.

Community. Connection. Love. Still,
at the end, private pain. Our own cold.

Wolves’ howl for the forest, logged to stumps.
Their ribs obvious as money, eyes monotone cold.

What do these have in common&emdash;politics,
angel wings, lovers’ lies, ice cream cone?
Cold.

Of course the dead visit. We left them
boxed up and buried, alone in the cold.

My aim is true, you croon with your back turned.
Your voice smoky, baritone, cold.

 

Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 19, Issue 4.

Alison StoneAlison Stone has published five poetry collections, including Ordinary Magic, (NYQ Books, 2016), Dangerous Enough (Presa Press 2014), and They Sing at Midnight, which won the 2003 Many Mountains Moving Poetry Award. She has been awarded Poetry’s Frederick Bock Prize and New York Quarterly’s Madeline Sadin award. A licensed psychotherapist, she has private practices in NYC and Nyack. www.stonepoetry.org  www.stonetarot.com

See all items about Alison Stone

Visit Alison Stone’s contributors page.