Luminous Bones

//Joan Cullen

Small
fragile
snow white
You undo me
each time I pass
your sheltering shrub.
Even the little black dog wonders who owned you —
cat?
possum?
or his own kind?
Sad
tearful
soulsoft
You undo me
each time I pass
your sheltering shrub.

I wonder how it was
you chose it for
your resting place.
illness?
injury?
isolation?

It breaks my heart to think of you
fading away —
in pain perhaps ... and alone

Did no living soul see you?
Nothing comfort you?
Am I to remain undone
praying that a wise spirit
from your tribe
came for you and carried you home
leaving only your luminous bones
to undo me.

//Joan Cullen is a shapeshifter from Dublin, Ireland. She lives in Baldwin, New York with her furry kid, Domino.