Hollow Bones
The deeper the grave.
The darker the secret.
Blind faith comes to mind.
As I speak of this in time.
Childhood memories are on my mind.
The early-morning wind cuts down,
the lonely countryside.
As a stray memory comes passing by.
The wind blows thru my hair.
As I walk into the graveyard.
The bones I see are hollow there.
As they invite me to their party at midnight.
And we dance in the hollow night forever more.
Thursday 3 pm 7/ 18/ 2013
As I was writing, my granddaughter asks if I'd read what I wrote. She then asks "could she tell me the rest of the poem? The last "5" lines my 6 yr old g-daughter dictated to me.
Copyright © Debbie Duncan | Year Posted 2013
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