Between cacti and tumbleweeds,
under summer heat
lies remnants of a small white cross.
Dates and name erased
by dust storms and time,
grave beaten down
by ancient buffalo herds,
that no longer roam,
the solitary man
rests in peace.
Modern entrepreneurs
of wheeled contraptions,
hawking their conveyance
in the town square
of a small prairie town.
Guffaws at a bicycle,
as the horses lined up
outside the saloon
whinny in agreement.
Dirt kicked by booted boys
in derision at the oddity,
desperate diversion
for the daily boredom
of chores and harvest,
cold winter winds and school,
and nothing better to do.
While town sleeps
after Saturday night baths,
and ironing of church clothes for the morn’,
the boys wind their way
out into the flatlands.
Grinning sickle of waning moon
barely lights their path,
towards the solitary man’s final rest.
Dragging the shovel behind them,
the lone hoot of an owl
guides their way to mischief.
Sweat pouring down their faces,
in place of tears never shed
over his eternal rest,
trembling hands take the bones
in their small hands,
leaving behind one rib bone
unseen by the terror of their deed,
and head back to town.
As the town drunk
wakes up beside the horse trough,
his faithful nag replaced
by the solitary man on the bicycle,
complete with the drunk’s hat and boots.
Church bells ring in happiness
as the drunk heads their way,
behind boy’s snickers
and town people’s glee.
Rest still not left for the forgotten bone,
carried off by a wandering dog,
and replaced in a new hiding place
under the school marm’s roses,
forgotten by the canine mind,
until next spring,
when he brings it home after supper.
Author notes
graphic: http://i71.photobucket.com/albums/i150/pollycheck/not%20used/Nude-on-bike-01.jpg
There was just something strange about the bones and the shape of the hips. I think one bone is missing, or it is not a complete skeleton or something else-had nothing to do with the poem, or story, or however you will critique it.
A contest entry
- 40 Images for 40 Poets by Pollycheck.
425 points, ended December 2, 2007, 12 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
Thank you for your entry into my contest and good luck. This is a very interesting take on this picture prompt and I realize that it was not a easy one. This poem however intrigues me and has soemthing in it that draws me to read it again and again. I especially like the stanza:
As the town drunk
wakes up beside the horse trough,
his faithful nag replaced
by the solitary man on the bicycle,
complete with the drunk’s hat and boots.
Church bells ring in happiness
as the drunk heads their way,
behind boy’s snickers
and town people’s glee.
It reminds me of something that you would see in one of those old TV westerns. -
too cute
looking back at the picture, it looks like two separate hip bones. Someone tried to piece this person back together... he he he he he he he
Yvonne
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Delicately woven round the picture, not actual, but that's ok, the gest is familiar with deat such is the memory, and there seems to be a humour amongst the reality, and that has also got to be nice., A notable person of the town, like Old Croydon, paper jack, Duppas Hill kate, this seems like an entertaining entrepreneur. Nice tales.
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