Bones – the kind you find buried on a beach

Rain falls to the bottom
of an empty sea.
All the bones
begin to tremble
like the hesitations
deep inside of me;
Bleached;
Burnt;
Bones;
Because what still lives
can only change.
Like a dreamer that has fallen out of love
with just the sound of thunderstorms—
I still long to become
the rain
falling down.

written on 04/14/2010 by: Matt Kane