These Empty Bones Are Flying Poem by Ben Partenay

Hollow, I am hollow inside and the
Sun was out and the roof was tinted
Topwise down into the wall shadows
While birds falling in love fell with

One another, the dust is growing dusty
Old man, even the wildflowers full
Of reasons are dropping golden petals
On floors of mausoleums, I am with-

Out a way of speaking fullness only
Hollow words and songs are sung
Now and ears are growing hollow
With the nothing melodies of these

It is the way the rain hits dry earth
And disappears, the way a key fits
Into a lock, how the wind comes and
Goes from nowhere, I trace your face in

Dust for remembrance, old man
You will know I fell away even before
I fell and felt the weightlessness
Of hollowness and how it’s easier to fly