Old Bones

I think I knew you'd never make old bones. Now loss and grief have made my old age sere For all your nearest neighbours are tombstones. You went from living into Death's unknowns Your death day will not change from year to year. You'll never answer needy friends'cellphones. You'll never reach the normal man's milestones A marriage, maybe, then a son and heir, Free spirit, you had skirted danger zones Now sunlight fills the summer'shoneycombs The aches of age make me the worse for wear The magpies chirrup out their careless tones. I've wizened into one of life's old crones Your carefree siblings breath the summer air, I think I knew you'd never make old bones. Days sometimes pass, no mourning, and no moans. But when I least expect it, you seem near. Happy grandchildren lick their melting cones. I think I knew you'd never make old bones.