What A Good Year For The Roses
You open the door
and the bones fall to the floor
clattering and clicking against each other
the thigh bones
the shin bones
So many skeletons
you’re immersed up to your knee bones
Your eyes search me with a quizzical look
I respond in my best Aunt Agnes voice
“Oh my! What a mess!”
(I’ve made of my life)
I know any minute I shall hear the crush
of brittle bone
beneath the heels of your boots
as your long gait leads you
down the hallway
and out the door of my heart
But you lift your foot
and begin to pulverize
years of bad decisions and pain and disappointment
and you take my hand
and I join in
doing a shuffle ball change
so I can hear the satisfying crunch
beneath my tap shoes
Then you ask for a broom
and a dust pan
and sweep up the shards of my life
and lead me to the garden
where you sprinkle them around the base of the roses
Fat Bottom Girl Said What 