an a-frame
close wrap
walls of indian tapestries
bones bared through
and a silhouette of bones
bones that were scattered in ash
in the end, anyway
bones exposed by hunger
so you could
escape the war
and i can remember
your bones
so heavy
heavy, broken sticks tied together
beneath your hospital issue
wrap
and the bed
also heavy
and high. on stilts….
angled into the room
you were all angles and bones
then
and your son
who missed you;
even came into the world
too late
to watch your weight
scatter like breath,
carries your weight
with in him
but not hollow,
not bared
…tightly wrapped
a fascade replaces
the silhouette entirely
he walks on stilts to see
where you may have landed
he saves everything
inside
to keep
everything else
out
my brother
wont float to ether
hollow and absolved
solid. strong.
willing to pull the loose wrap
tightly and
straining,
he carries enough weight
all of the weight
in his bones,
that you left behind
he will carry you
he is so full of the weight
that you left behind
left for him
to bare
and he goes to war
and he wants to know you
so badly
to know himself
but you are made of ash and breath and ether now
my brother holds up the hollowness
of what you have left him
deep with in his bones
Laamsha Young 