The man who balanced stones
took them home to bed with him, you know.
He rolled them under the covers
and ran the soles of his feet,
callous by callous,
over the fissures and dimples.
He knew the landscape of limestone and slate,
the terrain of every one of those globes of granite,
each freckle and glint of mica,
his namesake; and god knows the hands,
the great gulfed hands of a wall builder.
By day he pawed those bed stones of fieldstone
eyes closed to a flicker of emotion
and a slow sweet smile as
he found each one’s sweet spot—
the point at which it rested in perfect balance.
Melissa Shaw-Smith 
I love the flow of this.
Thank you!
And well balanced, like the stones!
Kind of you to say so.
But so true.
bad line break on “as” and maybe drop the first sweet, but otherwise, good I think!
Always room for improvement. Thanks for your suggestions.
This is a beautifully wrought work, Melissa. In reading other comments I say keep the line breaks as you have them, and the repetition of “sweet”. They work very well (in the absence of any good reason why not); and they are yours. Bravo!
agreeing with this a million percent
Thanks Cynthia, for the smile and support. Primal poetry, that’s what I call my scribblings. Sometimes I hit my stride, and sometimes not.
You are gifted with a rich ability to express and arouse images that are difficult to produce. I do love your creative passion and appreciate your work in this piece, Melissa.
Many thanks for your kind comments. I’m never sure where inspiration will come from. When I find a question that sparks my curiosity, that is often the beginning of a poem for me. For this one, I heard of a performance piece by a man who literally balanced stones into seemingly impossible towers.
Very nice Melissa! Balance is the key to a happy existence. When my son was born Mica was one of the two choices for his name. I chose Chance but Mica has always had a spot in my heart. Thank you for sharing your gift with us.
You are most welcome.
“He knew the landscape of limestone and slate”
I’ve said this outloud now about a hundred times
It feels like liturgy in my mouth, and tastes like wild mushrooms on my tongue
so grateful to whatever god or fate that let my lifepath cross with yours Mel
Love your comments, Charissa–even here your poetic spirit comes to the fore.
Especially love having the context for this, Melissa; a wonderful homage! Also, the protagonist of my novel-in-progress happens to be named Mica (though female) so the title gave me a nice jolt of synchronicity. 🙂
Mica–nice name, male or female. Good luck with your writing!
Reblogged this on Pearlz Dreaming and commented:
An intriguing piece from Melissa Shaw Smith. You’ll love her blog I’m sure.
Thank you so much Pearl for your on-going support. It means a lot.
You’re very welcome.
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