ELEGY


It’s been three months
and the jealous shadows
of arcing limbs of trees
grow longer,
claiming your bones
as their own.

Your bed now indistinct under
nature’s rampant counterpane;
swaddled in peace, you are
at one with your roots.

I tug at covering blades as if
to share your breath and blood,
dry-parched as summer’s hay;

to you I remain connected:
your soil, your roots, your shaded trees.

Watering your grave, there’s unity;
my life flows effortless down,
saturating the whole earth...

At your feet a memorial,
witness to a village son whose life
was taken by some foreign city,
distant with its steel and glass.

I sprinkle his stone too, marvelling
as words etched in marble and ink
sparkle to life refreshed:

“He left behind
the light of a bright meteor.
He will not be forgotten”

In me he lives today.