A Fragile Bone
I pick the grains of sand, and find
A fragile bone
Worn by centuries, millennia
Turned to stone
Over years
It was a raptor.
It ran free
Through grassy plains it met meat
Teeth and claws
A marvelous marbled hide
Covered its skeletal tree
Its eyes clicking and flashing
Like a prehistoric camera
In the dripping wet forests
at the edge of the plains
breathing the warm steam
behind a bush
waiting for prey.
A motion and he's there
And so are they
He was not the only one
The pack was waiting
The same way
The same place
To receive the weak mammal's gift
In their bellies
Warm and full
I stare at my own arm.
Someday
You will pick the grains of sand
And find me.
A fragile bone.