And now for something completely different!

Skull. Brain cradle, relic
remainder, reminder
shell of sense and senses,
hall of memory, talisman
orifice, septum
notched and riven to
its perfect pale white
fontanelle, I've got a
soft spot for you, my pretty

Dem bones, dem bones, dem dry--
Bone idle, bone dry, bone tired,
Work my fingers to the--
Writing down the--
Rag and --

Bone shop of the heart.

Today I found this magnificent little skull--of what? Don't know. Nutria? Possum? Raccoon? Beaver? I am smitten with it, in love with its perfect dark riverine line at the crest, its thin and complex curves, its color--like what? Like nothing but bone. Bone-colored, bone-shaped, bone-textured.

I give you Bone.

I'm at work on a writing project and will be unable to comment today, but many warm thanks for the excitement and promise of what One Street may be. It is taking off and will find a life of its own. I watch it fly. To see how it's going, do a Blip search tagged "One Street" (include the word tagged and use double quotation marks around One Street). If you're contributing, tag your shot One Street. I am thrilled to see these streets, as valuable for me in imagining other people's lives as portraits of their faces. It gives a whole new dimension of meaning to "street photography."

But now I pause for a moment of bone.