The Stones

It is the air that holds you down
In this senselessly beloved town,
While piercing frost deep ‘neath our bones…
Beware of how you touch the stones
Who pave the street; enslave your feet;
Entrance the lost who pass above them,
Till you over-glorify and love them,
Till every tourist we once hated
Is un resented, unseen, faded.
The walls, the shadows, crooked, near,
Slowly cloud and disappear.
So we wander. So we crawl.
There is nothing left at all
But out living cobblestones.
Whispering. Freezing. Mid the moans.
This chill is even unfelt – old.
No escape now from this cold
Quiet, heartless, numbing, slow
But to fly away. To go

– Written by Anna Williams at age 17
in Prague, Czechoslovakia


About Anna

Anna Vera Williams is a poet, a photographer, a blogger, and a webmaster. She is the webmaster of Poems, Poets, & Poetry, which provides poetry resources and allows other poets to showcase their work. Her photographs can be found at Anna Vera's Photography, and her books and photos can be purchased at

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One Response to “The Stones”

  1. Brian Says:

    the first four lines really reeled me in, but somewhere along the way it lost steam… although it could be i’m just tired…

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