To Make a Stone Speak

I steal into your garden
under cover
of a new moon.

My naked hands
dig in damp earth.
I strike rock,
uncover a head,
unyielding shoulders.
A marble torso emerges.

You stare at me
across the darkness. Silence
forms its own accusation.

I smooth away debris,
replace rocky dirt.
Cold eyes follow me
as I leave.
I have no words
to make a stone speak.

rev. 1-8-02