Bury me.
Burn me
then bury me.
Find a willow that will weep for me
for eternity
or as long as a willow might weep
Find a flower that will grow out of me
Forever
Or as long as a stalk might bloom
A woody wisteria,
an acorn oak—or
A birch— Yes!
A birch
Find a birch
with peeling paper bark
write my name on a curly sliver
place me in the ground
at its root
That fertile place
where moss and lichen live
where squiggly sperm
meet stable eggs
where stamen and pistil
meet their makers—
care-takers
the original stork
transporters
to an immediate
future
of weeping
and blooming
But please,
I ask you
Bury me.
Burn me first,
then bury my naked ash
Don’t take me on a boat
Don’t scatter what is left of me
Don’t splatter what you hold of me
or whatever might remain of me
on the day that I might die
Please don’t cast me to the wind
from some cliff over chasm
I was never ever meant to fly
—this time
My mind and spirit are
won
I was whole
But only one
I never offered cells
for the pure benefit of another
never a multiplication
never a division of growth
No marrow, no organ…
a drop of blood here and there
but what is a drop of blood?
I am all that is left of my line
A lone species of deep
alone,
a culture of one
I ask to be buried
To cycle a new life
To replenish the ground
With rich, dark ashes—
As that carbon is all
I am able to offer now.
___
Born in Albuquerque, New Mexico, Bleuzette La Feir is a graduate of the University of New Mexico with a bachelor of fine arts in theater. She has written for the theater, creating and performing several one-woman shows. Through world travel she has gained inspiration from other cultures, foods, landscapes, architecture, people, and the general sights and sounds. She writes poetry, short stories, creative nonfiction, and biographical works. Although their permanent home is in the Chesapeake Bay region of Maryland, she will be accompanying her partner on a three year tour in Italy. Her work is forthcoming in Diverse Voices Quarterly.
Friday, December 30th, 2011 2:11 pm
Categories: Issue 5.4, Poetry
