Estuary of Flowers

House of Heart

In honor of the fallen … lest we forget

Facing death
I step back from the light
into life’s darkness

The nights
after my death
my wife rocks
herself to sleep
in my favorite chair.

On the beach

I want to fly but fall like

a silent prayer.

My limbs are an anchor

as I slip beneath the surface.

Once struggling palms lie flat

as gentle waves rock me.

Seaweed strands of hair mingle

with the sigh of my breath,

I grasp the hands of my

companions,

my only thing of value.

Everything beautiful is here,

all that was lost.

Birds chorus to the stones that

mark the resting place of a

thousand warriors  at peace in an

estuary of flowers.

art by Abel Tasman

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