Skip to main content

September 16, 2022

What Remains

White bones
bleached by sun
smoothed by winds and rains
skeletal mounds,
icons consecrated
by nature’s gods
not man’s,
sacred places
sheltered by heaven’s vault,
open plains
cradling what endures,
remnant affirmations
of what once was,
in memoriam
where the living fell dead,
one thunderous slump
of heft and breadth
in their time
in their place
without fanfare,
alone or
with the herd watching,
yearning for resurrection
a return to life
a return to station
to progress with the herd
to this procession
of ancestral connection
where each step
urges past and present forward
toward an uncertain future
of more loss,
more inconsolable grief,
forever mourning what is left behind.