Backyard Bones
I am slipping away
And
when the door closes
And
the lights fade to blackness
All that will be left of me
Is an empty house
With a stack of mail
Stamped "past due"
The horses
Will find another mother
And
The house
Will keep someone else
Warm at night
And in time
The bones of another
Will be dug up
In the backyard
As if
Nothing ever happened
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