My Sisters Bones
Who knows where my Sister’s bones may be?
Ocean currents and heavy seas surround them now
Holding them much more closely than they were
By those who feigned love for her when she lived.
Her marrow dissolved in the anointed salted sea,
Her gray gone bones and soft ashes now harbored
Among sand, reef and rock of ocean floor;
Mindful memories of her remain.
A woman of hopeful heart, her big brown eyes
Gently piercing the depths of struggling souls,
She reached out touching others with hope.
Sometimes in the night, those old bones and her soul
Gather and softly come to me. Her dark eyes gazing
From the sooty night surrounding me and together,
For a brief flicker in my dream, we two who were so close
Seem as one again. Who knows where my sister’s bones
May be? Tonight, maybe tonight, they will be with me.
Gary Orphey about Gary Orphey. I am unpublished and as for a bio, there is little to say. An ex Air Force, circa early 1960’s, a laborer, another niche found much later in life in the arts. Artist,(Abstract and traditional) Illustrator, Designer, Now a poet/ latent songwriter, ‘The Texas Dog Poet’ as I like to call myself. I read the beat poets early on. When I was fourteen (1956) I read ‘On the Road’, and ‘Howl’ and I was never the same. Poetry chased me down and so here I am. Here is what I have to say regarding me.: “I am a runaway under the Southern Cross, a stranger in a group of strangers, a dreamer of great, relentless dreams that seem to take over my head like the stars take over the sky at night. I traveled this country not for the call of the towns and the cities that lie on their pathways. Nor the rivers that wind along side them, or even of the mountains that birthed the rivers. I am restless because I know life is out there somewhere and I have to live it.” I sometimes write under the name of Jocko James (Hence the email moniker) as well as my own.