|
Mind your Elders
by Scott Cadence
There are no bones
In the city
they have all been hidden,
organized and buried -
made into fine powders,
funneled into jars -
dust on the wind
There are no bones
In the city
and so we have minimized
our thoughts of death,
forgotten how fragile
and delicate
life really is
There are no bones
In the city
and the world is too busy
for the next batch -
their twelve mile
uphill struggles in the snow
fall already on deaf ears
There are no bones
In the city
and we hardly bare
any weight on our own -
this life seeming to be
the only life
that matters.
12/29/2009 Posted on 12/29/2009
Copyright © 2024 Scott Cadence
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by V. Blake on 12/29/09 at 10:39 PM I always say that if a line is gonna be repeated, it damn well better be a good one, and I can think of no more perfect candidate than "There are no bones in the city." I love the image painted by this line, and the implications. Really nice, Scott! |
| Posted by Nicole D Gregory on 01/01/10 at 01:24 AM This so reminds me of my days as a paramedic and how harsh the reality that there are births and deaths in the same walls of the hospital... such a short distance between the two and a morgue in the basement. This piece bears a weight that no heart should hold alone... my love and thoughts are with you and yours. always your friend, ~N |
| Posted by Therese Elaine on 01/16/10 at 01:21 AM I love this because it reminds me of Edgar Allen Poe as sung by Tom Waits -a gravelly, gritty portrayal of the continuity of self-absorption and survival demands...quite plummy! |
|
