bone, close to skin
fragile crystal cup
sing as I circle you
do not feed me,
I will not eat
let my bone grow closer
to skin
bone, close to broke
bamboo wind chimes
knock in the wind
do not measure marrow,
I will not extract
let my bone
be broke
bone, close to blood
rhythmic drum
beating loud at night
do not stop,
let my bone rise
through blood
bone, close to bone
seeds drop from trees
like hail hit tin
do not hold me,
I will not resist
I will not go home
let my bone rub close
to bone
bone, close to dirt
fill my ear,
the sounds are gone
do not cover my daughter,
do not cover my daughter,
I will not emerge
let my bone be covered
in bone
and close to dirt.
mmb Nov 17, 2005
Thursday, November 17, 2005
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5 comments:
michelle
a truly excellent, moving write!
nice poem!
great music
Pris, lorna dee ---
Thanks so much. I'm sure it'll get some editing, fresh off the page. Appreciate the kind words.
The whole poem instantly brought to mind one of my very favorite songs, by PJ Harvey: "Little fish, big fish, swimming in the water, come back here, man, gimme my daughter."
Haunting poem, M.
Laurel, I've never heard that. Now you have me curious though. Thanks for the thoughts.
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