Bones

There's 
not much meat 
upon his bones,
sinew, muscle
with some tone,
lean and mean, 
as they used to say,
she liked it that way
when they were alone,
her soft hands 
feeling, healing
what was left, 
upon his bones
Copyright © | Year Posted 2014

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Leake Avatar
December 8, 2014 at 2:46 PM
Enjoyed this piece David, On what's left, good right. Cheers Kevin
Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace