I took comfort in dry leaves
turning to duff on the forest floor.
She loved the sea, but I
couldn't go there to spread
what was left of her. I
lowered the last ashes
into the river,
trusting the current
to take her where she
most wanted to be.
After my friend died,
it took her weeks to die and I
sat with her through it all,
no one wanted
her remains.
I spread them
beneath her roses,
and some I tossed into the air
of my own garden,
hoping for blessing,
like Galadriel's dust.
Where do you scatter the ashes
of a nation?
Where indeed. I’m heartbroken for what’s unfolding. I’ll seek refuge in the natural world, and creative work. I’ve been attempting to share what I know before my time is up. But fewer and fewer Americans care about either of these.
ReplyDeleteYet, sharing what we know is still important work and sometimes it even sticks! Thanks for being there.
DeleteAnn, this says everything. Precisely pertinent. So good.
ReplyDeleteThanks so much Stephen. I always appreciate your good word to me!
ReplyDeleteWow, your ability to put such thoughts into words always amazes me. Thank you for helping me feel WITH you. Sometimes they are new feelings that I hadn't noticed before. Sometimes, like now, the feelings existed in me without eloquent words to express them.
ReplyDeleteThanks so much, Janet. What you wrote is one of the most meaningful responses I have received about my writing and affirms the 'why' of why I keep at it. Thanks again!
ReplyDelete