Skeleton Seen Dancing

I found sound
that something sadder
silent stranger in my midst
I tired out my wrist
with farewell wishes waving
caving when it came
to feeling underground
(lovely is the long way down)
I could only hope
that those who dig for gold
don’t miss coal and go cold
in an excavation of heart
(a minor mission to set
small fires in the dark)
you’re my canary conscience
my measured exhumation
of the dangers in unloving
you’re the terrible ungloving
of my skin deep sadness split
I’m the skeleton seen dancing
these dry bones you gave a drink
budging from the brink
of my survival instinct
when I’m with you
I feel like I can feel
(but alone)
all I do
is think

~ ~ ~

March 28, 2026
Clementsport, Nova Scotia

Year 19, Day 6712 of my daily journal.