Marrow

Every time they talk about marrow
I storm away
As if they knew anything about
The ghosts that sleep inside my bones

There were days when the sun came out
but it didn't shine
It just hung there absently
Only required to go through the motions

The dog brought home a deer leg once
And then I saw
The deep red between the cracked bone
Little more than a smudge dried inside

Every time they talk about spiders
I always wonder
Which ones made that poisoned webbing
Beneath the pristine face of those bones