POEM - Up There, Where I Saw A Skeleton Sleeping

Clouds slip in on teflon, as quiet as oil,
Where once, when I was younger, I sent my prayers,
In full repose, a skeleton rests breathless.
I count each vertebrae like stones: from the base
Of a jagged skull to its soft collar bones,
Sharp shoulder blades explode like fireworks;
Barrel ribs, a resting crib for missing lungs.
Face upward, with no trace of skin at all.

I send a wish to this skeleton in flight
Like running bits of paper up a kite string,
And, true of all things that are dead too quickly,
It dissipates without a cloudy remnant
To recall, nothing but the tender milky fog.



M C Biegner
6/29/06