Slender bones, delicately traced
staring grinning skulls.
No skin, no muscle,
no eyes, no heart or other parts.
Yet they tell a knowing eye many tales
of wounds healed, muscle strengths,
diseases and battles fought.
Indications of the life lived
And sometimes the death faced.
Copyright © 2018 Kim Whysall-Hammond
The Cheesesellers Wife 
If you don’t mind me telling you, but I was looking in the mirror this morning and at myself with a wide smile showing my teeth, and was thinking about our skeleton and what we, in the end, basically are as human beings. Your poem made me think again of this.
Thank you.
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I dont mind at all, it’s good to hear from you! After a few generations, all we have left behind is our bones. An interesting question went around in my bit of Facebook earlier this year, showing how anonymous we can become — “do you know the names of all your great grandparents”?
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Thanks. So true. A while ago, I did flittingly look back into my family tree. I would like to do it properly one day.
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I’m doing so, off and on. It’s quite fun, and there are lots of on-line resources.
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I liked your perspective, thank you for sharing!
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My pleasure! :)
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Interesting and enjoyable poem!
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Thank you.
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My pleasure.
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Every one has a story behind them. And the skeleton, if it could speak, has the most interesting story to tell us. Death.
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The pic and the lines complement each other.
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