Mother Bones (Ghazal for 27 January 1945)
Deep in limbs’ hardened cores drum bones
on metal stairs, the holocaust of rumble bones.
In ashes even, chips of bones, refuse to crumble into dust
labor, groan, unbend, motion stumble bones.
Holding quiet day of pain, handprints pressing into sand,
bare footprint in the dust recall ecru crumbs of bones.
Widows weep at crypts and stones above the children’s’ graves,
the lost and hungry unmarked graves lay on humble bones.
I, in aches and hesitation, climb stairs slow, grip
bannisters of houses made of brick and lumber bones.