Should be a serious event.
Yesterday we bought a plot
For my spouse
Right next to me
On a hill overlooking
A meadow shouting green
And a forest singing wind.
This morning he says,
“You realize we can’t divorce now.”
Oh dear, dying green
Is such a commitment.
First you have to agree to
Next you buy a wooden coffin
Or such that
Next you sign you won’t
Embalm so your family must
Ice you until the service.
Picture this, Mom in the living
Room laid on ice like a fresh
Caught fish. They could talk to me
And I could answer. Wait-
The agreement. The cemetery
Needs time to dig your grave
By hand. They’re letting
The land restore itself
Naturally. My plot now has several
Bushes most of which will have to go
When I arrive for residence. But, I
Bargained and they agreed that one small bush
Could be replanted. I need roots
To tangle about my frame
And raise my skeleton up
To gaze on the changing land.
Meanwhile the neighborhood has a new resident.
A small stone caps the site of some cremains
Buried at the foot of my coming residence.
Poor soul now has no choice
Ashes and skeletons are grounded
Forever. Cheer up buried ash we’re all
Employed forever as
Janice Eskridge © February 2018