Jumble Of Bones

• Victoria Stuart-Smith , Grade 9
• Poetry
• 2013

A jumble of bones, paper-thin skin
A face, like moonless wrinkled leather,
He’s sprawled on a thin hessian mat
Enclosed with the red dust weather

For decades, his stony skin mould his bones
In one fall, they will shatter
The joints, deformed in agonizing angles
For decades, existing with starving latter

Yet with his lack of knowledge,
Of language, countries and life
He is wise and grasps the commands of death
And battles his body in strife

And finally, his wise whimpers hush
And the irregular beats halt, put to bed
There’s no life among the wind and sand
So he just lies there.