The Dance of the Thirteen Skeletons

By Jack Prelutsky

Pair 1In a snow enshrouded graveyardGripped by winter’s bitter chill,Not a single soul is stirring,All is silent, all is still.Till a distant bell tolls midnight,And the spirits work their will.

For emerging from their coffinsBuried deep beneath the snow,13 boney apparitionsNow commence their spectral show.And they gather in the moonlight,Undulating as they go.

And they’ll dance in their bones,In their bare, bare bones,With the click, and the clack,And the chitter and the chat,And the clatter and the chatter ofTheir bare, bare bones.

Pair 2They shake their flimsy shouldersAnd they flex their fleshless kneesAnd they nod their skulls in greetingIn the penetrating breeze,As they form an eerie circleNear the gnarled and twisted trees.

They link their spindly fingers,As they promenade around,Casting otherworldly shadowsIn the silver mantled ground,And their footfalls in the snowdriftsMake a soft, sulfurous, sound.

And they dance in their bones,In their bare, bare bones,With the click, and the clack,And the chitter and the chat,And the clatter and the chatterOf their bare, bare bones.

Pair 3

The thirteen grinning skeletonsContinue on their way,As too strains of soundless musicThey begin to swing and sway,And they circle ever fasterIn their ghastly roundelay.

Faster, faster, ever faster,And yet faster now they race,Winding, whirling, ever swirlingIn the frenzy of their pace.And they shimmer in the moonlightAs they spin themselves through space.

And they dance in their bones,In their bare, bare bones,With the click, and the clack,And the chitter and the chat,And the clatter and the chatterOf their bare, bare bones.

EveryoneThen, as quickly as it started,Their nocturnal dance is done,For the bell that is their signalLoudly tolls the hour of one.And they bow to one anotherIn their boney unison.

Then they vanish to their coffinsBy there ghostly thoroughfare,And the emptiness of silence once moreFills the frosted air.And the snow that masked their footprints,Show no sign that they were there.

But they danced in their bones,In their bare, bare bones,With the click, and the clack,And the chitter and the chat,And the clatter and the chatterOf their bare, bare bones.

By Jack Prelutsky