Not an Elegy
- We left you,
- ashes scattered
- from a wooden box
- onto lichened
- gravestones above
- the blue-grey sea.
- No flowery words,
- no birdsong, no bright
- blossoms, no prayers—
- the day was dreich,
- dismal, hard to bear,
- with raw winds that cut.
- Tempest of a father,
- I know it was what
- you wanted, but
- I can’t bear to
- think of how we
- turned away,
- left you only
- our hot tears
- as your stubborn grit
- dispersed, dust
- on weathered stones
- in a gale
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