JUDE MONTAGUE

Old, old bones

What have you got to say?

Nothing, you can’t talk.

You’re old, old bones.

Maybe you’d say, ‘You’re stupid.’

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Or ‘We’re not stupid,

why do they think we’re stupid?’

Maybe we shouldn’t have kept you,

Old, old bones.

But one time you were special

and you walked about in flesh and blood

then we couldn’t get over the fact

that you died.

Now you can’t walk, you can’t talk

and things have changed

so much we can’t deal with it.

Old, old bones

though you can’t see or smell it

the blossom and lambs are here again

we’re getting a glorious spring.

Old, old bones

don’t dance, don’t sing.

Do what you do best,

lie in your box

and make us think.


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https://www.hastingsindependentpress.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/literature.jpghttps://www.hastingsindependentpress.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/literature.jpgHIPLiteraturePoetryJUDE MONTAGUE Old, old bones What have you got to say? Nothing, you can't talk. You're old, old bones. Maybe you'd say, 'You're stupid.' Or 'We're not stupid, why do they think we're stupid?' Maybe we shouldn't have kept you, Old, old bones. But one time you were special and you walked about in flesh and blood then we couldn't get...The Hastings & St Leonards non-profit community newspaper