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The garden of our bones

13 Jul
Photo by Jacqueline Martinez on Unsplash

We steal fish heads

from aluminum trash cans —

the flesh fileted, spine dangling

down, in gravity, to the tip of the tail

fin.

The hooked bars of bone present

the illusion of a body – in the same way

timbers and trusses of houses give the impression

of a home

yet unfinished.

,,,

We clear a patch of ground by the burn barrel,

where homeless rags stay warm on cold nights,

by edge of the dirt pitch we play stick ball at

& run coffee can bases.

We place the refuse, these structures that resemble

fish, as seeds & water them – imagining a whole school

rising to dance in the current of summer’s hot breathe

& join us in play

We chant “Batter, Batter”

to distract each other from connecting

tn such a way that the ball would project itself out –

over the fence // beyond this place

in an escape, we never thought possible,

to be lost

out there

beyond us –

The garden of our bones grew, but the fish

never bloomed & we

too soon

forgot that one day,

one day —

we thought they would.

Claudia has us writing “Garden poems” over at dVerse for the 10 year anniversary.

 
22 Comments

Posted by on 2021/07/13 in Uncategorized

 

22 responses to “The garden of our bones

  1. Lucy

    2021/07/13 at 1:27 pm

    This is so vivid, and I especially love these lines:

    “The garden of our bones grew, but the fish

    never bloomed & we

    too soon”

    That hits hard, makes you want to relive those moments but knowing you can’t as you changed—everything changed. Grew up. That’s beautifully written and expressed here, it’s very evocative to me. The imagery as well jumps at you, along with the stunning line of “the garden of our bones…” It’s beautiful and reflective of life.

     
  2. claudia

    2021/07/13 at 1:55 pm

    ok – this made me hold my breath all the way through reading – glad it is not longer – otherwise i would have fainted. wow – that was quite a gripping write brian – you’re definitely not out of practice *pulls her hat and bows* oh – and by the way – here are some berries for you friend 🙂

     
  3. sanaarizvi

    2021/07/13 at 2:53 pm

    This is incredibly immersive writing, Brian. I especially love; “The hooked bars of bone present
    the illusion of a body – in the same way timbers and trusses of houses give the impression of a home yet unfinished.”💝💝

     
  4. Björn Rudberg (brudberg)

    2021/07/13 at 3:12 pm

    There are so many layers in this… a child’s imagination of endless possibilities, the sadness when you realize it will not. To me, this is a coming-of-age poem…

     
  5. Grace

    2021/07/13 at 3:21 pm

    I was reading this carefully, as if listening to your story. This part caught me, overwhelmed by sadness:
    The garden of our bones grew, but the fish
    never bloomed & we
    too soon

     
  6. Linda Lee Lyberg

    2021/07/13 at 3:23 pm

    I’m in awe of the many nuances you have put into this beautiful poem.

     
  7. Ingrid

    2021/07/13 at 3:26 pm

    I love your visceral and poignant take on the garden poem: everything stripped down to the bare bones, leaving only our imagination intact.

     
  8. msjadeli

    2021/07/13 at 3:31 pm

    You make me think of magical times gone by that seem so far away now.

     
    • brian miller

      2021/07/13 at 3:58 pm

      AH, I hope. We did play coffee can baseball all the time growing up. A simpler time when there was no worry and imagination ran rampant. We did not know what we did not have.

       
  9. Misky

    2021/07/13 at 3:35 pm

    A beautiful multi-layered poem.

     
  10. Sherry Marr

    2021/07/13 at 6:18 pm

    I love this unexpected take on the prompt. Rather brilliant. I especially love “the garden of our bones grew”. Such cool closing lines.

     
  11. callicarpa

    2021/07/13 at 7:46 pm

    “flesh fileted, spine dangling”
    “gravity, to the tip of the tail fin”
    “The hooked bars of bone present
    the illusion of a body”
    timbers and trusses … give the impression of a home”

    Very cool sound throughout, B. So glad you’re writing. Poetry is definitely one of your many, many gifts.

     
  12. rothpoetry

    2021/07/13 at 8:12 pm

    A wonderful metaphor… garden of bones … and illusion of the past.
    I love it.
    dwight

     
  13. Helen Dehner

    2021/07/13 at 10:13 pm

    Fantasy / reality on a collision course. Thought we had it figured out ~ you said it best “We did not know what we did not have.” Cheers.

     
  14. Gillena Cox

    2021/07/13 at 10:39 pm

    “The garden of our bones grew, but the fish

    never bloomed”

    Innocence and maturity entertwined. Happy Tuesday

    Much💜love

     
  15. abigfatcanofworms

    2021/07/13 at 11:26 pm

    A sort of sad and whimsical journey. A nostalgia for believing in the impossible. Some incredible lines. Some amazing pictures. Really beautiful.

     
  16. M

    2021/07/14 at 1:32 am

    hey Brian. as Claudia observes, you have if anything honed your pen, sharp as a hook ~ M

     
  17. Yvonne Osborne

    2021/07/14 at 6:32 am

    This is so nostalgic. I remember those “batter, batter” days. We thought they’d last for ever. The garden of our bones is just….perfect.

     
  18. katiemiafrederick

    2021/07/14 at 7:54 am

    Avatar Life Leaves So
    Many Foot Prints Key
    Are They Deep Enough

    To Be

    Felt As
    Well As
    Seen And

    Heard More
    Than Fish Bones

    Indeed

    Until

    The Next
    Sell Comes… 🎣

     
  19. Hank Kaykuala

    2021/07/14 at 8:40 am

    We place the refuse, these structures that resemble
    fish, as seeds & water them – imagining a whole school
    rising to dance in the current of summer’s hot breathe
    & join us in play

    Love this anticipation of seeds making it big with fun play together in the hot summer sun. Great imagery Brian!

    Hank

     
  20. robtkistner

    2021/07/14 at 5:20 pm

    This is wonderful Brian. The imagery was so captivating, haunting and beautiful.
    “beyond this place
    in an escape, we never thought possible,
    to be lost
    out there
    beyond us –…”
    Not only the ball, but each other, as life projected each of you beyond. Joy to read my friend!

     
  21. areadingwriter

    2021/07/15 at 12:56 am

    The innocence here is mixed with a hint of morbidity creating such a sensory experience. A unique take on gardening. A haunting one.

     

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