You can hear the bones humming

[sovay]

How did we know we were human? We made music and devoured our own. The juniper tree's roots run deep. I am waiting for the flute that, blown, cries out in the voice of an ancient child.

There is salt on Enceladus.

Comments

[seajules]

We eat what we are and so never leave the dead behind.

I wonder whose mourning marks that moon.

(Spouse has been reading to me passages from a book called Traditions of the Navy, first printing in 1942. His edition is from 1954, and was a gift from a crusty old sailor he met while serving a mission for our church in Stockton over a decade ago. There are poems and poems in there, the embrace of the sea that gave us fathom, and the ravens kept aboard by the Northmen for navigational purposes.)

[sovay]

We eat what we are and so never leave the dead behind.
I wonder whose mourning marks that moon.

Okay; you write that poem.

His edition is from 1954, and was a gift from a crusty old sailor he met while serving a mission for our church in Stockton over a decade ago. There are poems and poems in there, the embrace of the sea that gave us fathom, and the ravens kept aboard by the Northmen for navigational purposes.)

That sounds marvelous. I'm so glad you have it.