A silly poem written for a Halloween Photo Contest,”Skeletons on Parade.”
Enjoy!
Bare Bodkins
Tibia or not tibia?
Free from flesh’s bloated moat,
we share a humerus moment, while
lumbar-ing in our plastic floats.
If there is no to-marrow, dear,
rest in peace with me today.
I clavicle you forevermore.
Hold tight to my phalanges.
Fibula after fibula,
we had no skull at lying.
At short radius we were shot,
an ulna-tural way of dying.
Patella a little closer, love.
Let’s fuse our sacral vertebrae.
In this undiscovered country,
we’ve a femur hours to play.
© 2022 | K.Hartless
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
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