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Stonepoem.com

August 21, 2004 - A poem about Art

Sculptor and Stone

When does nature turn to art?

Here he stands,
Raising hot dust from cold
Trying to fashion beauty
From brutish chisel
Strike and scratch.
Passioned blows
Seeking form, in form
Already there.

Not knowing when
These vain stabs cease
Makes him wonder.

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