Matthew James Friday 2 poems

The Hallstatt Skeleton

Two Korean boys agape,

pointing at the bleached bones

of the Neolithic Salt miner

laid out in reverential order, small

Adams reaching to a gaping god.

The Peter Pans look up at parents,

needing confirmation that horror

on proud display is a real thing,

not a model, surrounded by fake

grave goods, examples of hundreds

found in Hallstatt’s Neolithic burials,

the world’s first ever salt mine,

now a theme park on the Salzberg

peering down at the Hallstatt lake

cupped in an Alpine pelvis, mobbed

by tourists sweetening life before

they become bones. Having summited

40, I am tottering between boyhood

and being buried, looking down

at the bones of those whom I love.

March Moon

Bulging with new tides, birdsong,

she sings in early evening skies,

A bucking hare in her marble eye

encased with pale blue silk,

Shielded by smoky clouds,

she reminds you of orbs, discs,

the circular path that resists

meandering, looking back,

reflecting. The reassurance of

the return, older but constant.

About the contributor

Matthew James Friday has had poems published in numerous international magazines and journals, including, recently: All the Sins (UK), Acta Victoriana (Canada), and Into the Void (Canada). The mini-chapbooks All the Ways to Love, Waters of Oregon and The Words Unsaid were published by the Origami Poems Project (USA).

Related Articles

More Like This