by Elizabeth Holden

Why did I dream I was digging her bones
my grandmother       Lucretia
beneath the flag pole
in the lawn beside the family home

Didn’t she tell me about that valley
and how dry those bones were
how He breathed them right back alive

What do they tell me those old bones of hers
what lives on
a code of sorts
a likeness passed
to the ones who would follow

that they might flare up in fire

Oh bones           my bones
I lean into you            listening

Elizabeth Holden lives in Black Mountain, North Carolina. She has read, studied, and written poetry for forty years. She has published in the past, but now prefers to write with a few friends and for herself. In addition, she creates abstract art in oils, pastels, and acrylics.

About Decipher—When I went to Zurich, Switzerland, in 1970 to study at the C.G. Jung Institute, this was the first dream I had, and first dreams were considered very important. The task many years later was to shape this dream into a poem.