we are all
musical instruments
flutes made of bone
femur and tibia
radius and ulna
so many ribs
bleached and hollowed
drilled with precision
so that the wind
passes over us
and plays us
a dry harmony
we wait for rain
to reflesh us
and take up
our own voices
once again
Words and Feathers 
My favourite biological bits are the islets of langerhans. I really, really love your stuff!
Ha ha. Thanks. It always sounded like a fun place to go until I learned they were inside.
Skeletal. I see it. (K)
😀
Nice poem! I’d like to be some woman’s flute.
Hey now!
I thought that was the title of your poem?
🙄