I Opened The Door Poem by Adnana Zeljkovic

I opened the door
and saw my mother:
there she was,
in the middle of the room, standing,
holding on to the table,
stark naked,
skin and bones,
with baby’s indifference,
as if awaiting
to be last visited and gone.

Her life is stripped off,
picked clean, to the bones.

In Parisian underworld
they sort them nicely
femur on femur,
tibia on tibia,
entire walls of them –
Great wall of bones.
seen from the space.

It is the bones we stand on,
on bones we swirl away
our dance of life.