Thursday, May 24, 2012


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Green Bones
By Rebecca Rogan

Soft green bones
of growing things
are easily distorted.

She runs through open doors,
can't help herself,
she's a horse,
jumping flower-bed fences.

Come in! I yell
balancing milk bottles.

She stands steaming
kicking her hooves
as I wrestle her
into her uniform.


This is lovely. Soft green bones...an enviable line! It's really great how all of the poems for today converse.
Posted by Tanya DeBuff on Apr 6, 2011

I read this poem on the last day of spring when "soft green bones" were all about and I was delighted by it.
Posted by janet demb on Jun 20, 2011

Rebecca, this is so lovely, and reminds me right away of my granddaughter, Laurel. She's 11 and is on the cusp of being a different child, but your image of the girl who "stands steaming/kicking her hooves" will stay with me, and will always be Laurel. And the phrase, "Soft green bones." Thank you for sharing this will all ov us.
Posted by Judy Ryan on Jun 28, 2011