Brown Bones

The first time I saw a dead body,

it didn’t look like how I imagined.

They were just bones

dug straight out the ground.

I never met you, and I was only 8,

but we were bringing your body back

from the motherland.

Brown bones empty eye sockets.

Just like the skulls I saw on TV.

I don’t know why you weren’t in a coffin

Decaying along with earth.

Maybe they couldn’t afford one.

Your body was organized in pieces

gently being transported into a box.

Hey Grandpa, here’s your coffin

Fifty years later . . .

You sure are patient.

I heard all kinds of things about you growing up.

You were apparently so strict

I highly doubt I would have been born.

If you were alive when my mom met my dad

there wouldn’t have been a wedding

there wouldn’t have been infidelity

there wouldn’t have been loneliness

and there wouldn’t have been me.

sometimes I wish you were still living

so I wouldn’t have to be.