Writings and Witterings

Bones Under A Bridge


Tiny pile of bones
under a bridge
you were found out;
talked to the hawk,
or a murder of crows.

Maybe your first love,
the one that found you
in flagrante
set you up,
or the second, the witness,
who heard your infidelity.

Selfish, you will be alone.
The bridge won’t help.
We celebrate
bones ‘neath the bridge.
You were fond of saying:

‘No one cares.’

Polly Stretton © 2017


6 thoughts on “Bones Under A Bridge

  1. Smashing. I would never have seen a poem in a little pile of bones.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Wonderful. I love the “talked to the hawk” line. Very pleasing to the ears in its rhyming.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s