Saul Stone Poems

At many times, i find myself stepping barefoot onto the hard, dry grass. god's breath sends a chill up my spine as my neck, my entire body burns.

It's a pleasant thought: are there stories to be found? Is there a reason for me to stay here? i am baking in this sun, but refuse to leave. I'll walk this road, that I have made, step on the stones that have stepped on me, until you come.
...

sometimes
i feel like a dead end
and sometimes
i wish i don't depend on the sun to turn me on
...

I'd walk slow on the warm days
looking for some open shade
i can't exploit my thoughts
and keep to myself
...

when this world has filtered out it's agitation

the sun pours a smile over her face
and the breeze carresses the feeling
...

'and the whole place didn't look the same that night'


During The coldest hour
...