Today I speak to my bones as I would speak to a dog. I want to go up the stairs, I tell them. Up, up, up, with one leg dragging. Is the ache deep in the bones, this elusive pain? Does that mean it will rain? Good bones, bones, I coax, wondering how to reward them; if they will sit up for me, beg, roll over, do one more trick, once more.
There. We're at the top. bones! Good ! Keep on going.
There. We're at the top. bones! Good ! Keep on going.
( Margaret Atwood )
[ Good Bones and Simple Murders ]
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