I have forged
a friendly relationship
with death.
We’re buddies;
well,
maybe just acquaintances
but my heart no longer
s-
k i p s
when we meet.
I examine bones
of the long,
long dead
thinking all the while,
they had a life once, too
I often wonder
if I will be as interesting
or well-preserved
or indistinguishable
from soil I was buried in.
I want to be remembered
and so do they.
The bones leave
their scars and I oft
imagine how they died…
Wonder, what a woman did
to deserve
the side of her head
bashed in, leaving me,
five hundred years later,
to tape her skull together
and hypothesize,
Why…
She deserves to be remembered.
So, I piece together
the only fragments
proving her existence
in the hopes
death and I
can tell a little
of her story.
.
Author notes
death is not the end
tik tok tick tock
Comments
-
like the child's footprint on a Roman pantile
It is so good to see you
-
love the ending. it wrapped it all together perfectly.
-
welcome back.
"Maybe, I will be one of the unlucky ones
ashesdustashesdust,"
and
"I want to be remembered
and so do they.
Their bones speak to me;
I see their aches and pains,
imagine how they died…"
were a little weak.
the rest is really solid. i like the sentiment. hope all is well.
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