bones

No green leaves, only dry, grey brush

 Crackling fingers make supplication to a pitiless winter sky

 in vain.

 

In the vacant lot stretched out to the right

 the few rays of sunlight strike the whiteness of the bones

 once more.

 

Passing by, the people slow their pace-

some say the fragments are so large they must be

 from a small cow or a large goat.

But no one wants to say it, no one wants to hear

 

 those pieces are just the right size for a small

woman

 Or a big

child.

 

And one by one they go their way,

just as they did yesterday

and all the yesterdays gone by

 so long. So long.

 

They turn away and push their over filled high end department store

 shopping carts again,

looking straight ahead because the day is fading

not looking around because the time is short. And their favorite TV shows will

be on soon. They stare ahead,

Rolling and strolling down the sidewalk and out of sight.

 

Perhaps the bones will be gone tomorrow

Reviews

[Starbaby]

This reaches me on another level. I see this scenario on a daily basis, watching the vulnerable decay and crumble to bone while society walks on by, too busy and wrapped up in their own world to care, to stop and hold a hand whilst it still has the flesh, mind and heart attached to it.

[Julian]

Perfect- thank you for the depth and breadth of your kind reply,

[Chris Shaw]

Apathy is so scary. The passers by, too preoccupied with trivia to engage with anything of depth and meaning. I found this poem poignant. Touched a nerve on life today.

Chris

[Julian]

thank you so much- I was actually driven to write this while reeling from a video I had seen- a man on a busy street in Chicago had been beaten and robbed and was laying on the sidewalk bleeding badly. And no one stopped. He tried to stand and collapsed...and no one stopped. Finally a lady with a shopping cart stopped and helped him, and called the emergency service and they came and got the fellow. Apparently he recovered. But somehow, the horror of seeing people walk past a wounded man, created these images in my mind. Thanks for reading.

[Chris Shaw]

Reminds me of the good Samaritan. Pleased to hear he recovered, but I understand fully your horror.

[Matthew Kult]

Poetically sad. Apathetically demented.

Great read

With love,

Matthew

[Stu. T.H.]

Just one short work, but bears so many meanings.
It hinted us to the horrors of natural scenery being so stoic to one's individual demise, the eventual and natural decay of all living beings, the scurrying nature of societal apathy and the circumstances that lead to it.
I personally find the apathetic nature of men to be scarier than the eventual submission to nature even if forcibly.
That being said, it's a great work and worth being re-read on another day.