Scattered Bones*

In renewed provocation
It is best to say as little
As possible.

In the economy of words
There is wisdom.

There is better company
Than old wrongs
Better companions
Than old wounds.

Old wine is good ferment
But old anger distills a bitter brew.

Walk west
And I will walk east.
Or walk east
And I will walk west.
But there is no profit
In meeting in the arid land
Of old battles
In the midst of brittle
Battle-scarred
Scattered bones.

Let the dead bury their dead.
Walk away.


*How sad. How futile. How empty of merit.