I've seen the furrowed brow of nothing,
The aching joints of something else,
The healing bones of where I was,
The flagship of misery, rocking back and forth.
And I've seen the droves of wandering youngsters,
not sure.
The despairing searching tree branches winding
through the air I breathe at night.
And the tepid walk on frosted grass,
the reluctant steps and frozen knuckles,
The closed jaw tight with disbelief,
the heavy eyelids, blinking, "are you kidding me?"
Bones healing healing.
