To My Dearest Bones

Today I was asked at the Waiting For Godot Advent Calendar, ” What are the things you cannot let go of? What item, that you have a close attachment to, would you be prepared to offer to the muses in return for a cup of the elixir of creativity? What is something you just cannot relinquish?”

The first thing that popped into my head:

My bones.

I write from my bones, feel from my bones and when I’m gone they will outlive me for a very long time.

I love my bones. They make me the person I am. They support me in everything I do and they have served me well for my entire life.

So I wrote a poem about them.


I can’t live without you

be without you

my bones wrapped neatly under my skin.

I am nothing without  you

can’t dream without you

my bones held firm by muscle and skin

I’ll live forever

because of you

leave my mark in the earth

because of you

smiling into eternity dreamless  with you

my bones

gleaming like diamonds

cradled with love

held soft kept warm


muscle and skin

Photo: A.M. Moscoso

How Sweet It Is


Christmas Morning I woke up to snow, the Mumps and a brand new lime green bike with daisies stamped on the frame and a gear shift

the Christmas Eve Dinner when I tried Bourbon Balls for the first time and fed the half chewed remains to my cousin’s champion Saint Bernard Show Dog

All of the Christmas Nights that were cold and dark and full wandering pale winter  ghosts, warm rich food and soft lights burning from our over decorated tree

racing out the frosted windows into midnight

to find

and bring back

the next




Christmas Special (2017) Writing Prompt #12 – Perfect Christmas


Photo A.M. Moscoso

You can dance with someone you love, 

or at the end of a rope

You can dance with the Devil

with the truth

or all alone

in the dark 

to your favorite song.


I used to dance

with abandon

what a dance we had

I used to dance with abandon

my favorite partner

the best lover 

the best friend

I have had.

Photo A.M. Moscoso


Daily Post Challenge: Dancing

The Revenant’s Confession


I was the shadow at the top of the stairs

I was that cool breeze that turned your blood cold

I was the dark under your bed

nesting in your closet

when you hoped to God you were really alone.


I was there when you reached out into to the darkness

felt along the wall and turned the light on

I was the nothing that night in your room.


I was with you before you fell asleep

I watched your eyes close

I watched your breathing slow



I watched it




Photo A.M. Moscoso

Daily Prompt: Mystery