Photo by Nikhil Singh on Unsplash
by Jeff Friedman
The bones had no names, no flesh either. Blood clung to them. They lay there for days in the dirt, unwilling to sing or speak. We didn’t kneel and say a prayer. We didn’t touch them to feel what they felt, nor did we say anything to them or each other as we walked past. We thought they were just bones.
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Jeff Friedman has published ten collections of poetry and prose and has collaborated on two books of translations. His most recent collection, Ashes in Paradise, has just been published by Madhat Press. He has received an NEA Literature Translation Fellowship and numerous other awards.
