pick my bones
weary broken
heartsore
up
from where life has
scattered them on the floor

dust off
the grime
and salt rime
from tears shed.
regather thoughts
from whence they fled

straighten up
the bowed back

plant the semblance
of a smile upon my face

take my place,
near the end of the rat race

and put my best foot forward
even as the other foot
drags through broken glass
and the detrius of a life
lived to hard...to fast

don't look back....
just move on.....and on

somewhere....there will be
                                 some sort of comfort

till then grind your bones
on the grist of life....

taste the salt on the wind
and remember when......