Bone Tribe by Mary Bone


Bone Tribe

There will always be someone
coming to collect the bones.
Bones rattle on their way
To the grave, jiggling and juggling about.

The bone tribe is coming to collect
The bones
And there is always a bone collector.

Bones are made into wind chimes
In my neighbor’s yard.
The wind chimes whistle
When the wind picks up
We can’t sleep when there is
Too much noise.

Wild animals come up from
The forest hoping to
Gather bones and
Gnaw on them.

They are looking for substance
To fill their own bones.

Mary-BoneMary Bone about Mary Bone
I have been writing since the age of twelve and have had two books of poetry published. My poems have appeared in journals, magazines, newspapers and online blogs. The most recent poetry acceptances are posted at Poetry Pacific, Literary Yard, Afflatus Magazine and my poem, ”Other Warriors” will appear in the July/August issue of Oklahoma Today Magazine. I also like to draw and paint in my spare time.

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