Sometimes comments on posts lead to more. Such as the po.ems developed by Mark and I. This is part in a series. See also: Words Become Necessary, Sometimes Before and Midnight Mirror.

For more of Mark’s writings, visit his two blogs: Coloring Outside the Lines and project21words

Our latest po.em. My words are in italics.

 

bones of our ancestors

left to bleach in the twilight sun

cracked lips sing upon funeral pyres

quilted into the fabric of being

the ancient chants of the dead

coveted in the dust of dreams

image: JW Waterhouse, The Magic Circle

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