Poem -

garden bones

The perfect dead 
The perfect graves
In perfect death
•••••••••••••••••••••
The perfect lay
and churches stand

Sing their hymns
Their garden bones
Washed clean of sin
and there we walk
~~~~~~~~~~~~

Us You and me
▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎
In perfect health
We perfect see

how living is 
--------------------
imperfect steps
how perfect thrives

In Lack Of Breath

M

 

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Comments

author
Being Me

beautiful and yet it makes us think. Well, it makes me think a bit deeper. Love it x

Reply
author
Marion

I was thinking how we perfect our dead and ONLY our dead...all their faults and weaknesses wiped clean... a generosity we rarely bestow on our living. Thankyou. Hugs x
 

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