Burn or Bury

When the time comes
I shall not much care,

destroy this thing that
was once me and a part
of you. Scatter the ashes —
left over remnants of
being — over some vacant
alley or desolate place.

Inter me in the dirt
beneath a solitary tree
on some lonely hill, morbid
fertilizer, for roots to grow
through what used to
be me.

When your memory no
longer haunts and this
body is but an empty shell,
I shall not much care.



Filed under Poetry

2 responses to “Burn or Bury

  1. I can feel the angst in your words and was reminded of the great novel Wuthering Heights.

  2. I agree. Who would want to impose on their descendants the task of tending a grave?

Some of what I write is true, some is fiction; most is merely possibility.

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