The Lonely Bones

RDP Monday: Melancholy

Photo A.M. Moscoso

I stood over the shaded gravestone

and I wondered if

back in 1906

had someone stood here and cried

” Don’t go, wait for me. “

the way my Grandmother had cried over my Grandpa’s grave

and I felt bad for the box of bones beneath my feet

and my heartbroken Grandmother

because I knew then, as I do now

nobody waits for you

in the end.

The South Portal

RDP Thursday: Washed Out

Photo A..M. Moscoso South portal, Great Northern Tunnel, Seattle, Washington USA

 

When the trains run through the tunnel and race passed my warehouse door

the ground shakes and the walls in my office groan

like an old woman complaining about her bones when it rains.

 

Once I found a dead body out by the dumpster, by the tunnel

and when I leaned over it,  just a little to make sure he wasn’t just passed out

a train raced by and the ground shook and a rat ran out of the dead man’s mouth.

 

It slid down to his chest and  it looked for a place to jump, it’s claws slid a little on the

gold  buttons that held his  washed out black  peacoat that had seen better days

closed and in a flash the adventurous  rat found it’s  footing and it jumped.

 

I looked down the tracks into the tunnel because I didn’t want to watch that rat scurry

off and that is when  I saw  a man walking into the tunnel. He was wearing a black

washed out peacoat that had seen better days.

 

I looked at the dead man dressed in his black peacoat that had seen better days and the

I looked at the figure walking down the center of the tracks into the tunnel and I didn’t

bother to call out to him  to come back, to get off of the tracks because it was too late.

He was gone.