Tower of Bones
A parade seen
from the perspective
above the clavicles of a king among men;
or lengthy fields of bluebonnets,
or guitarists on stage.
He counted train cars aloud to me as they passed.
Now as I stand at ground level
and watch his funeral procession go by,
I long to once more
climb that tower of bones,
to view the majesty
of this life's moment
while perched atop my father’s shoulders.
© Imbler, 2018
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