Museum Poem

Here is a poem I wrote when we went to the Neues Museum, a museum on Museum Island. It is a compilation of my thoughts as I observed these 2 pieces in the museum:

The fibers of bones.

Empty

Yet so telling of life 

that is no more.

Telling that life was 

but is no more.

You keep nothing when you die 

not even the flesh on your bones.

Fibers, bone.

Color is bone.

Form is bone.

Skeletal details

Everything else disappears 

with time. 

Time escapes 

death.

Time tells death what should stay.

What will survive.

Time tells what can last. 

The last breath gives one the journey of death.

Death is a journey all beings must process.

A process  that indicates there was once life.

Life could be preserved in bones.

Bones 

that are

 old

or new 

and dry

and fibers.

Fibers  of Bones 

that journey a story of here and gone.