bone house

some days I think
about all the bones in
this batty bone house
called earth—my calculator
coughs counting bones
near 8,000,000,000 souls
living now, 206 bones
in each one, much less
bat and bird bones
the trillions of fish bones—
an invention of consciousness
that apparently serves
but where do they go?
they dissolve into
love and dust and
nourish the ground
for what comes next

Thank you to Elias Amidon for the phrase “love and dust.”

2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.