Bare Bones

I saved this picture taken by Robert Wilde
and put on the internet last year
just because it is so unusual.
I like it because it is what it is.
Bare Bones.

It somehow fits this dream about living poor.

I dreamed my sister Marge and I went to Los Angeles to visit Linda and Gerry. Karen, Colette, Cheryl and Camille were also there. (neices) LaRae went down with us or was already there. She seemed on the edges, a spirit.(deceased) Gerry and Linda insisted we go visit a couple of friends the minute we arrived. I went off without my purse and not a dollar in pocket. First we went to a black woman's house who was putting on a one-act play (Gerry's?) in her house. Linda and Gerry both gave her a dollar, but Marge and I had nothing as we left purses behind. I was embarrassed and promised I'd give her some the next day. She said that you give TO the poor. (I have always been impressed at Linda pulling out dollars to give to the homeless at unexpected times, whether they asked or not.) Then we went to the next person we just had to visit that day. This guy was homeless and he visited people on a wire ladder. He had three special chairs. The ladder was laying down, so at the end he had a chair and you brought your chair into visit. Two others sit on the other two chairs that were put on the ladder behind each other, waiting their turn. Linda went first and she laughed and talked. The guy slapped his knee and laughed (like Dean - he was skinny like Dean too). He was sort of Dean, Marge and I were in the chairs in line waiting our turn. Gerry and the girls waited off to the side while we visited. Linda took her chair, gave him a dollar, and left. It was my turn and he turned so sad. Then he got up and went in the bush where he lived. (Doc??) I was wondering if I did something wrong. I told Gerry I really didn't understand the homeless and very poor. I didn't know what they had to do to live. But this wasn't about money, the sadness. Then the dream was gone.

The old remains of moose bones
reminds me to get to the bones of my life
to find that part valid and true.
And try to see appreciate those that
offer me bones...and they do.
I do oral history at the care center.
I touch lives.
I am reminded..
to carry a dollar in my pocket
to give in unexpected ways.