A Farewell by Sea
from hand to hand the burnished soil passes
cupped by palms conveyed in fist
to finally settle where dry throats breathe
and cake the slow bake of hearts here
held fast before the afternoon’s conviction
we back into the wind to give you journey
the leather shoulder pieces clap
against head and neck and sky
below us the seals move as liquorice
in reveal to loll over the ancient basalt
I spill your urn finally to the daily whirl
watch as the Milky Way of you
flickers out through the untethered rip
drawn under the frolic of waves
to where the parallel choices fade
into this seethe of black hole edged
beneath the raging in constraint
of ashes burst tidal through memories
our lives collapsing for implosion
weighed down we lose our grasp on you
James Walton Poetry 
I would love to know the time and place. for this gem “afternoon’s conviction”. Lovely poem James. Must say I love the painting you used. Crazy and cognoscente connection to your words. Beautiful prose.
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Thanks Peter. It’s a mixture of things from an island and two continents in a way. From an island, and then the thoughts about it from two other countries, to bring it together. I really want to believe there is something in the cosmos after.
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And a gorgeous and wistful farewell it is… The whole third stanza slams!
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Thanks Stephanie, those were, and not, the days!
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Such finality, in casting ashes to the sea! It was good to hear you read it, too.
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It’s one way to go, better than the other options I think, especially for those always drawn to the sea.
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I envision the wind, sea, and sky, a number of people watching as “the Milky Way of you” fades away through the sea foam and the final: “we lose our grasp on you”.
Is this the way it always is?
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For the living I think so, but I also think there is something else … going and coming.
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