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Skeleton

That is what we will be

And everything we are not

Loving tissue near gone?

Living crystalised cells

Well watered with blood

Healing as

Liquid concrete

Eons before such invention?

Less may be more

But see a bone

And I will ask

Where is the soul

And the impossible to count

Connections.

 

By J.W.H. Hobbs.

 
 
 

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All original poetry intellectual property of J.W.H. Hobbs. Photographs taken by J.W.H. Hobbs.

Consistency. Effort.
Passion.

Business Email: j.w.h.hobbs22@gmail.com 

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