alittlepoison

We are standing on Bone Hill
We are standing in sun
We have emptied our guns
We hold our own bone hands

Hans is in shock
Physical and psychological
He is unshaven and shaking,
These are symptoms of his shock

Snow falls dark and white on Bone Hill
Bone snow falls upon our heads
We have emptied our guts
We have no appetite anymore

Judy takes to wearing red
Her white face grins in her red hood
Still her gun rests in her hands
She’s in no position to sleep tonight

On Bone Hill we set up camp
We drive our pegs into the ice
We have smeared our legs with fat
We have dried our mouths on our sleeves

Richard breaks into song
An old song we know and sing
His voice breaks thin where once it rung
We sit him in a chair

Death is close to Bone Hill
Death is close to Bone Hill
Death is close to Bone Hill

It’s not much of a rhyme but
It’s all that we can muster in