With no deity could I shake hands
and with no children at my feet
who will tend my grave
when all is said and done
Something sublime smiles back at me
from the music I lose myself in daily
but who will tend my grave
who will know that I was here
‘No children at our feet’
we were in agreement then
but will we always be
You would have been
an exceptional mother
and I had some stories
I wanted to pass on
O, bury me at sea, bury me at sea!
Print out all my poetry
and mummify my body
Let them take a chunk
from the soft skin
at my rump
Fill the six gill shark with searching words
an army of shrimp tuck into the sweetest memories
Some busy lobster, a canny swordfish
come on, take a piece of me
and another
and another piece of me
My creativity
my laziness
my empathy
my cynicism
my passion
my bad spelling
my caring
my obsession
my gentleness
my duplicity
my desire
my naivety
my love of family
I’ll feed the fish
and they’ll give birth
I was here
now they can be
We’ll go on and on and on
into the blue…
[2020]
Thanks for reading.
The Lighthouse 