The bones that we buried in winter

Will bones that we buried in winter
 expose when the snow melts in spring?
I'd fly from this place so much faster
if I'd ever learned to grow wings.
Now here, in my silent reflection,
I watch to chase vultures away.
Why couldn't we bury a seedling
instead of a body decayed?
Salt water drips down from my memory;
my heart whispers, "never forget."
These tears could bring slow growth still hidden;
instead, here the ground is just wet.
I'm restless. I'm clumsy this morning;
I've never been good at these things.
To wait the bones buried in winter
exposed when the snow melts in spring.