Learning to be nobodies

Trying to climb a small elevation  to a rock, we bit the dust and scraped our palms.Before dawn we tried searching the fakir with a head cloth but the book of faces yielded none.

 We then read a poet aunt’s  nobody poem about a frog who tried to be somebody in a bog. We are in our bogs of blogs , trying to be somebodies till we are no bodies.

In due course aunts and nephews will be no bodies . All will croak from  bogs and  our blogs will dry up the first of summer.