Poetry of Tongues Free-verse #9

Runic glyphs depicting death are
Emblazoned on my bones.
I seek the clouds that match the sylphs
I see when I’m carved and hollowed out.
Now the canaries are nesting in my stomach.
Now there are stalks of every fruit
Bursting through my scalp.
Cast me in bronze, I’m a monument of a man.
I’m cursed to be a story that children seek
And wish they could be when they’re big and strong.
I dream to bathe in the daylight of their eyes,
Feel the shimmer on my skin a final time.