Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

I stare intently
at my thumb,
in abject focus.
I see the bones inside,
waiting for me
while I live.

Sight of them,
chills my spine.
Goosebumps,
prick my cozy lifecoat,
(which still has plenty
of wear,
which still has plenty
of wear.)

I look away quick,
old thumb returns,
intact.
I revive sorely renewed.
Peace to the bones,
I'll leave long behind.

I like that leave behind part. I have friends who tell me about eternal life and I believe them, but I like the part about being here now, I want to never miss another sunrise, and when I leave dese bones behind I will be the sunrise.


I only got a month a winter to go, just button up, I just got too old for them yankee winters.

I only hope I have not trivailized it with my reply.


nod of my head a tip of my hat