Bones

My bones have grown
strong. Although not
shown, these bones
hold me together.
They make me feel
alive and well. Me:
my bones can’t be
rehomed. Bones
can break, shatter,
and weaken as life
does its job. Bones
come into play
every day when
we say, “I have a
bone to pick with
you” or “You are bad
to the bone” or
Break a leg!” Later,
my bones will be
brittle, and it will
be hard to see.
Until then, I will
roam for as long
that I am strong.

3 thoughts on “Bones”

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