What the skeleton said
Poem by Rosemary Mathew
When alive I was male. My hips have
Told you this. A warrior, a soldier.
You need only see my shin, dented,
Axe-marked, the whole leg mis-shapen
While still in my teens.
Fighting was harsh, and weapons primitive.
My hands, when they held blood, damaged by war,
My skin burned, briefly, in fire; the flesh
Scarred in accident. No modern skills
However will disclose that.
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