POEM FOR OUR SKELETONS Limber akin to tree upright or leaning a little wind-swayed green and leafy in summer sycamore or live oak rock, chunky boulder these pebbles that a foot with its many little bones might kick and feel a kinship— the living sap flows through toe-bone to heel ankle, shin, and knee up longest bone to hip cradle that rocks us as we walk a miracle uprooted — Rosie King
Nancy Brooks Brody, Mountain and Desert, 2011
