Miles of tunnels lined with bones,
generations of remains hallowed
by sentiment and trepidation,
patterned like a grisly tapestry
designed of skulls and thighs,
femurs, chains of back bones.
They melt into a grim menagerie
devoid of name and status, countless
dead unrecorded, unremembered.
A parable of life on earth,
how fragile is our once vivid flesh,
how we sink to inconvenience.
The eight billion of us
now trampling the earth —
where will they put our residue?
Sharon Scholl is a retired college professor (humanities) now resident with the over-90 set. She convenes a poetry critique group and maintains a website of original music compositions and poetry (freeprintmusic.com). Her poetry chapbooks, Seasons, Remains, Summer’s Child, are available via Amazon Books. Her poems are current in Gyroscope Review and Rockvale Review.
