Stoneman

A stone knows not
other stones. It’s 
called and cobbled thus.
A silence so neatly
proffered, so broken,
when it obliged,
when it’d hit and rushed.

There,
a silence; hush!
A split,
and above all-
left none, none there’s
except,
that’s a cardinal fault.

Stone and a man
melted,
laid together till the madder’s rush,
thus 
making blood.
Making street 
beggar’s sweet dreaming

wistful, clot cold
on 
cobblestones.
Before screaming,
news,
before
the morning jolt.