07 July 2011

Poem for my dying step-father

The Withering Bones

Paper thin skin

surrounds those old bones;

bones that have seen decades.

Decades of love, joy,

disappointment and sorrow.

Bones that have held fresh babes

in the smoldering sunlight.

Bones that have sat and watched

a performance unfold.

Bones that have yelled, screamed,

hollered and streaked.

Bones that are now sitting.

Bones that are now decaying.

Bones that are tired,

ready to give in,

not give up.

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