these are old bones, bones of the dead,
bones that don't belong inside a body

bones that decay, abandoned first aid,
and forgotten calcium supplements

Baba, in life you took my soul, I thought,
so I held my heart away from your hands

Baba, I have no use left for it now,
bury it deep under great piles of dead land

I've been told by the birds that you're not in the sky but in fact, just beyond my eye's reach

I've been told by the cemetery stones and old trees that the earth houses empty bodies

Some days I think you are trapped in the clouds,
but they pass to reveal mirthless blue

Some days I think you'll walk right through the door, but the foyer is clean of your marrow

Baba, these bones have aged too soon, with unlived years I dreamt to share with you

Good years, after the last of the wars, in which love surely wins, triumphant over all

Years of peace, filled with the light of the sun
I witnessed warming you in your grave

That sun, over sands of sandspit beach,  painting us, bathed in gold this December

4 months, and these bones creak along to your song, it goes:

I miss you, I love you, come home