top of page

Peach Stone Thoughts

Steadily growing bigger,

Flickers of age, developing shade and shadow into form and substance,

And back again, growing steadily bigger, then back again.

A gathering, hand clustering shadow, with the power to scrunch the onyx

Night sky into a bunch, ripping it from its place like a blanket.

It shrinks down the body,

Soul and mind. Bones without frame, empty art left.

The reverse of fast quick framed growth shown to students,

Science PowerPoints without order or cohesion.

Chaos! Succinct precision needed! for the wheels of the minds to turn,

Oiled and right! Achtung!

The shadow leaves me, the body -

Withered and hard, rough wrinkled,

Peach stone.

And I let it, it has me.

Killing me an image,

I am the stone being rolled away to the wet, winkling gutter.


Words: Rhiannon Morris | Sculpture: Monica Piloni

bottom of page