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Thursday, May 23, 2013 02:25 pm

personal pilgrimage poem

her ashes – my brit child’s – were in a
baggie about a teaspoonful I left a pinch
at the dorset farm she loved another on
white horse hill near the town of her birth
sun wind skylarks brilliant kites and folk
from all over giving the prehistoric chalk
carving its yearly cleaning a third pinch
in cornwall’s lost garden of heligan back in
the trees a giant troll head half out of the
ground its nose a long root its lush hair
waving greenly I left some ash in the corner
of a merry eye (a mosaic of white and blue
pottery shards) call it a tear of joy the last
bits I scattered the length of the green maid
asleep in the woods from her cradled green
head to her toes most on her toes the toes of
the green child I kissed one by each one my
final lonely act before leaving her lost form in
the e.r. sleep gently beloved demi in woods
you loved now part of a form that enchanted
you my lost child in the lost garden of heligan

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