A Burial at Sea


What is worn out is cast away soon
Mind, machine, clock-work or flower
Man-made or God-made, it strains to an end

Dust and detritus, silver or brass
Swept, assembled, and gathered to one
Share the same end as jetsom and junk

Ashes to ashes, crumble of bone
Relic of man encased in a vessel
Ceramic coffin, flowered and smooth

White specks of remembrance mercifully falling
Over the rail lovingly scattered
Mingle now swiftly with seaweed and foam

Across the bowsprit an easterly wind
Up to the masthead breath of ash rising
Vestige of life still seeking the sun

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