Bone Quiet

It's strange

to be without

boundaries

marking inside

and out, defense 

made impossible. 

Din arrives 

not just by ear
but surrounds
each bone. 

I thought 

quiet would reign,

the death silence,

but wind's

fierce incursion 

blunts bones 

with no skin 

to hold it out. 

Intrusions
blur any sense 

of safe containment;

after gone 

comes noise.

A Flash 55 in my bone poems series for Kerry at http://www.withrealtoads.blogspot.com.