When Bones Become Phones
When youth fades to a crumbling age
bones become telephones.
for minds to answer.
No diel-up tones,
you are directly plugged into
its skeletal language
of cracked joints and rusted nails.
Those crumbling bones
have to call you up day and night,
just to make sure
you are still listening,
still paying attention
to the way nature
has faithfully kept its promise
to you
of a guaranteed shelf-life.
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
