Old Bones

by lynnkennison

A swap in the season

Creatures of habit

Have lost their pattern

Old bones in procession

Go into hiding

No longer haunting

No command in their say

Quiescent in the dark

Voices of yesterday

Taking their rest, fading away


Tomorrows amending

Present days adjust

Revolutions uprising


Learning to trust

Voices of wisdom

Good sense, intuition

Two feet on the ground

Dreams wide awake

Old bones left behind

New hopes on parade


Silhouettes tread softly

Trying to keep up

Skeletons of past

Find forgiveness

Old bones become dust