Bones and Skin
© Steve E. Anderson
An old tree is compared to an old man, hanging on to that last bit of life before death conquers. Very good poem.
Bleached white bones of an old dead tree,
Still clawing at the sky,
Still mocking death, still trying to be.
The pale thin skin of a tired old man,
Still fighting off the grave,
Still trying to live, still trying to stand.
Bones and Skin; the tree and the man,
Both of them, and all of us,
Still clinging to life, still gripping its hand.
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