Reading The Bones: A Blackjack Moses Nightmare

He swat down

on the sidewalk

in forehead of my home

"this sod is a footprint

of your life," He said

As he took his bone from a bag

made of snake skin

He tossed them upon my paved ground,

spread them on the outside like a map,

studied them like a book:

What he saw in those of advanced age bones

made him scream, the unhurt

voiced from somewhere

deep within, forcing me to quick-step back

as he leaped to his feet

ran like terror after madness

down the sidewalk of my tribe

I stared the distance after him,

then direct the eyeed down at his forgotten bone

wondering if I should pick them up

not wanting to touch them

tho they already touched something frightening,

something standing like a skeleton

of my possess bones

dressed in nightmare

waiting to be read.

Copyright World poesy Incorporated Jul/Aug 2002

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