I remember
my bones-
Strong,
pure and silent
Carrying me
through years
I remember my bones
filled with all the destinies
of my kin
The pain of their burdens
bearing down
upon sunburned brows
In lazy fields
a harvest waiting.
I remember
my bones-
Etched by the sharp
edge of time
I rock them gently
for they are mine.
How creative, Lisa... repitition in ancestry.
ReplyDeletei liked how time past through this in the most gentle way
ReplyDeleteI think our bones must carry lots of memories, and it is good to remember them with kindness.
ReplyDeletethat last bit..rocking your bones...it evoked quite a visceral response in me...i took this as less ancestral and more in coming to grips with ourselves....
ReplyDeleteLovely images here--I worry so about my bones! This poem resonated with me. Thanks. k.
ReplyDeleteYes, hold on to it. It's what that maintains the shapely figure one is so proud of! But lo and behold, it now creaks though and accompanied with the incessant pain! Nicely Lisa!
ReplyDeleteHank
I like that self affirmation in the end ~ Lovely verse ~
ReplyDeleteTo be ourself.............
ReplyDeleteWow Lisa pure genius! I wish I had written this!
ReplyDeletelovely Lisa, very clever and I enjoyed the use of the repetition.
ReplyDeleteI really love to refer to the bones.. poets are so used to sing praise to their heart or eyes or hands... but the bones carrying us upright and even when in pain.. love this ode to something so important and often neglected.
ReplyDeleteA nice poetic piece that I enjoyed reading.
ReplyDeleteThank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.
I rock them gently / for they are mine---ah, yes! What a creative thought to write about. Funny, I've been thinking writing about 'bones' this late.
ReplyDeleteI admire how you are so true to your "voice". And you always move me Lisa. Wow, again.
ReplyDelete