In Memory of Sarah King

Had you known your granite headstone
would be flanked by two unknowns
you might have thought it significant;
as yours stands tall like one chosen
compared to their drunken faces.

The tree that shadows where you lay
its sloughed bark being last to view
the moonlights felicitations;
In your day sinewy green with youth
has suffered change like you have.

The proud and leafy head is burnt
broken and lifeless; its blackened
antler branches gouging the sky.
The knuckled roots naked of earth
reshape the form you left behind.

The unknown blistered facing flags
askew upon the biers they mark
wedged between the tree’s webbed feet
is living proof that men must fear.
Names mean nothing to nature here.

Though Earth has held your name upright
slow moving time has wrought its change;
skeletal remains seeking rebirth
remarry to achieve what you could not.
Path to Mecca: world without end.

Published to MasticadoresIndia