LIfe as poetry
My Skeleton
We creak
she and I
we think
more about
each other
We knead
bend and stretch
we feel
I tend
to be cerebral
get lost
forget skeleton
we tend
we oil
It seems the skeleton takes more prominence as one ages, that's for sure!!
Oh yes the growing voice of our aging bones! Well put!
This poem hits home, Willow. So true, my skeleton and I think more about each other than I ever imagined! Great poem; form and content.
It seems the skeleton takes more prominence as one ages, that's for sure!!
ReplyDeleteOh yes the growing voice of our aging bones! Well put!
ReplyDeleteThis poem hits home, Willow. So true, my skeleton and I think more about each other than I ever imagined! Great poem; form and content.
ReplyDelete