top of page
  • Writer's picturetheplantnews

Bones

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.



0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Sarah Bensetiti Secretary Concealing the fiercest weapon, the deadliest ammunition, He disguised himself with the most luscious fruits. My hunger, this constant craving, couldn't restrain itself in th

bottom of page