Stone cut man

So below for you today are a couple recent ones, the last being written this morning. Still drying.

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He squatted happily with little to think about

And started hammering a tiny little cheek bone out of stone

That still looked to him as nothing more than stone

And to the tool

Nothing but a surface to dull upon

He chipped out the hollows of a chin

And a dip like neck but still just less stone then what was

Until he made the most unhappy realization

That he was no longer just holding stone and breaking it

Form scratched at the inside and claw marks sounded hollow thunder

About the confines of the stone which the primitive man handled

Awe unannounced

as at the sight of a god who did not exist and told him so

Consumed where he squatted the sun and moon were broken

Down as he worked far past into the evening

Scratching away an ancestor rock

With no name and lost eventually to sand

Time and a student on a glorified trip

Who just found a little stone cut man