By Roger Peterson
From the clay I pulled a stone
Small
Simple
Round
Feeling out of place in my hand
I threw it
Striking you
Surprise on your face
And I thought
A man in a glass house
Should not throw stones
But it was done
From the floor you pulled the stone
Small
Simple
round
How does it feel in your hand?
Will you throw it back?
Break my glass?
Shatter my soul?
And I thought
I have lost a friend
Alone, I pick up my things
And leave
From a dream I pulled a stone
Small
Simple
Round
Feeling out of place
I threw it
Striking me
The mirror shattered
And I looked around
For you
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Roger Peterson is an active dreamer searching for meaning in his life through human connection and artistic expression. “I love to write poetry because it takes up far less time than sculpting, drawing and painting to express myself. I am living in two worlds as I am emerging from a world of work, work, work to a world of live, live, live. The price is great and I hope I have the courage to emancipate my soul and find a genuine life.”
