by fire

House of Heart

When the sun is sinking low

the living gather at the river bank.

A widow wails her mantra out and into

the watery grave.

The Moon plays upon the wake of the burning boat

while at the bank mourners chant and dance

their faces obscured by the glow of the fire.

As the pyre disappears beyond the horizon

the young inhale herbs and chew kava

to make it easier to forget.

 

pyre 3

photo by Day Schildkret

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Filed under Lifestyle, Poetry - Poems, Re-Blogs and Great Blogs

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