Skull and Crossbones

Skull and Crossbones

A Poem by Maxwell Ryder

I feel like I was born
in a biome,
Neither desert or bayou;
Dry Hot Humid, Cold
Pulled, stretched, wrenched
As prey to carrion,
Weather picking at flesh,
The elements slowly
Whitening my bones,
Till all that’s left
Is a pirate emblem:
Skull and crossbones.

© 2019 Maxwell Ryder


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Probably not a consideration back when you posted this, but now I'm reading this as a poem to show the seemingly lifeless scenes being recorded across the globe . . . beaches with no footprints, Golden Gate bridge with no cars, markets with no shoppers nor goods, etc. Our bones have been picked clean & now we're learning to cope with this new normal (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

Posted 1 Year Ago



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Added on October 15, 2019
Last Updated on October 15, 2019

Author

Maxwell Ryder
Maxwell Ryder

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