Laury Charland
Creative Writing Editor
I found bones in the woods last night.
Mother, I swear they weren’t his.
I found bones in the woods last night.
I didn’t look at them for too long
Mother, I swear they weren’t his.
I found bones in the woods last night.
They screamed my name and sung my mind
I didn’t stare, Mother.
I swear they weren’t his.
I found bones in the woods last night.
In piles, and mountains, and mounds
They chanted my love and wept my sorrow,
I know it’s rude to stare, but, Mother, I swear—
They weren’t his.
I found bones in the woods last night,
In crevices, and puddles, and creaks,
They tasted like the life of a king and the dreams of a child,
They knew my trust’s rhythm, knew my lust’s melody,
Maybe I glanced one time too many
But they weren’t his, Mother.
Trust me.
I would know.