Stone Soup

Where young artists paint the world with words

The international magazine of stories, poems, and art by young writers and artists. Published continuously since 1973.

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My Darling

Held close to my chest is my darling
With eyes of robin eggs and limbs of soil
Smelling of pine and tiny daisies

When I hear them coming, I run
I scramble, slip on air
Still holding the one that is mine

They track me.
They are everywhere.

And my darling
Grows
And tells some other story
One of crabapples and smoke

I sprint, breaking
But my darling expands
And it burns my hands now
And its eyes shatter
With no baby birds inside

No, no, no
Stay pure forever

They catch us
And take my darling
And I sit on the nothing,
empty but open.