bare bones

Another year has gone by,

and the lush covers of your skeleton are withering away.

They crunch under my feet

and disperse in the wind, as if you are no longer whole.

But you are.

You are strong and sturdy

and reaching towards the sky each day.

Your bare bones reveal the raging storm,

tucked in behind your ribs.

It rips and roars and thrashes in the wind.

Passing time will heal you.

It will fill you full of life.

You will be whole again.

 

Inspired by Tree

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city lights

Sometimes I miss the city.

The streetlights illuminating my path

on the late walks home,

and the porch lights

flickering on the moistened pavement.

I miss the momentary silence

that overtakes the rustlings of the day.

I don’t miss the traffic.

I don’t miss the people.

And how busy they make their days seem.

Everyone runs around frantic like they can’t escape the rain.

A constant loop plays out their days.

Sometimes I miss the city.

But most days I do not.