A View By The Sea
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The dead die young Ernest Albert Bett
your concrete grave is a trough
with no pigs yet in it
just convolvulus and ivy
I stepped across your withered torso
the silence of the dogs I walk
death in spades around me
shadows of oak walk past me
Gravelled path tidied by perspective
runs a silent brook so ghostly
wrought open the iron gate
kept after school, the bony lonely
Ernest Albert Ball where would you live?
by limestone cliffs and fulmar nests
moonlit waves that cannot sleep
my mother’s grey ashes cascaded
© edenbraytoday09.04, 2021
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#Authors note – my brother and I decided not to bury our dear mothers ashes beside a sad memorial stone but to scatter them on the cliffs, by her favourite view – my mothers free spirit now flies with the gulls and the fulmar petrels .. .
edenbray ☢︎ - a BEAT POET 