My Sister’s Ashes

AshesIn a few weeks, I’ll go back to Missouri,
Take my sister’s ashes in a box,
Spread them out on old north farm
Down by the creek that runs through timber,
Down by the creek in wet black mud.

I still remember her standing among walnut trees,
Wading into cold water of the creek
With sun shining through green leaves and branches,
The entire world reflecting as water in her eyes….
Entire world dark within her shadowed eyes.

As a little girl, she walked barefoot in that mud,
Washing feet in cold water while shoes were on
Banks of the curving meandering creek,
Down behind old barnyard gate where cattle grazed.
Above the wild geese flew, straight among white clouds
As she sang the same old blues held within her heart.

Now it’s time to take her back again,
Spread her ashes there in wet black mud—
Waiting there for her all these years,
Waiting for her while she strolled the world.
This time she’ll come back not to visit
But to stay for good on that curving avenue,
Once again no shoes covering her feet,
She’ll stay forever on the banks of the creek.

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