Hey, Mom! Talking to My Mother #344 - Writerly Wednesday - "bones," a poem
Hi Mom, Since I am behind schedule still, I am going to share this poem without much commentary.
I kind of like it.
I see fewer flaws in it than last week's poem.
I will mention that I wrote it while studying bones and words related to bones, and so the poem features many words, phrases, or things listed in dictionaries along with bones.
I have always loved this last line.
I am big on the powerful ending.
bones
As children, our bones pour slowly
into shape, like swan necks unfolding
from where they curled
near their bodies in sleep.
Later, our adult bones wobble
out their days
in their sacks of muscle.
There's some sense to all this,
some bone message
etched in the crown
on the underside of our skulls:
"bones are dependable; flesh yearns."
Love feeling in my bones.
We stack days of bone ash, bone
black, bone earth together like blocks.
We set love in bone china porcelain,
frozen and white. Bones sound everything.
We carve a bone in every gesture.
It's bones all the way down.
I steep white flower bone set,
for tonics and teas,
bitter bone mending medicine,
tinctures to make bones
harden, to make muscles
lash on, hold fast.
Bones echo every childhood,
every marriage,
moments vibrate loose,
chalky, dust clouding off
long, unused furniture,
until the bones are naked,
polished,
and my skull is a mirror.
Dancing bows skeletons like wishbones.
With each dance, we love a little longer
as age rings our bones.
Bones of loved ones line the walls.
-- christopher tower
re: 9405.17 15:10
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Reflect and connect.
Have someone give you a kiss, and tell you that I love you.
Talk to you tomorrow, Mom.
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- Days ago = 346 days ago
- Bloggery committed by chris tower - 1606.15 - 10:10
NOTE on time: When I post late, I had been posting at 7:10 a.m. because Google is on Pacific Time, and so this is really 10:10 EDT. However, it still shows up on the blog in Pacific time. So, I am going to start posting at 10:10 a.m. Pacific time, intending this to be 10:10 Eastern time. I know this only matters to me, and to you, Mom. But I am not going back and changing all the 7:10 a.m. times. But I will run this note for a while. Mom, you know that I am posting at 10:10 a.m. often because this is the time of your death.
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