Singing Over Bones-

Trains of Thought

The Great Escape – Intensive Journal Writing

 

Will the bones beneath my feet

look up at me and start to sing?

Will they tell me who they  were, their favorite colors, their favorite foods?

I think the bones beneath are fast asleep, they won’t wake up, I think they dream

But  the marble that we leave above their heads

speak so loudly

it’s enough to wake the dead.