What We Do Not Say
So like dreadful ebony sacks of bones,
Tethered and harnessed we are with memories
Grim and Gay both…
Desperate to cut away trappings
Just as determined not to forget
Our loads melded together with a single fraying seam
From constant pulling for opposing purpose
We cling to hope that is a dry as the dusty bones in the sacks
Revealed in all that we do not say.
Copyright © Kelly Mcdonald | Year Posted 2006
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