scattered ashes

She tossed him in the lazy river

From the dank and swampy shore

Onto the still surface of the slowly moving water

Leaving streaks of ashen grey over its shimmering surface

Already covered in swirls of springtime’s yellow pollen

And frothy orbs of dirty white foam

Created from the baby fall of rapids

Just out of sight behind the rivers last bend

Looking like the deflated suds

In the dirty water of a kitchen sink


The iron and silt made the water dark

With debris from the flood plane gathered

In front of large submerged rocks

Or in the elbows of the rivers turns

Stately bulrushes marking sentinel over the waterway

With thick patches of water lilies

Littering the shore line with a solid quilt of green

Patched with fragrant white and yellow flowers

Twigs and winters fall of water logged deadwood

Act as flotillas of respite to sunbathing

Dragon flies, frogs and painted turtles

Before slowly being carried downstream

Past the house perched high on top of the hill


The thick, fertile muck at the water line

A squelching barrier to entry

Into the cool water of the river

The hum of mosquitoes and black flies

Loudly bothersome irritants in your ears and on your skin

When under the shade of oak, maple, spruce and pine

Or pathways through giant ferns and blackberry bushes

The rasping of grasshoppers and chirp of crickets

Provide a cacophony of auditory stimulation

In the wooded silence of early morning

Heavy leaf cover and mossy ground

Absorb both the shoreline and forest noise

Of chickadees and hummingbirds,

Chipmunks and red squirrels

Flitting and scurrying in their search for seeds


Just over the tree tops on the horizon

The brilliance of the rising suns

Sharply angled rays of gold and silver,

Reflect heat and warmth over the dark waters

Through the light wafting of steam

Rising over the surface of the river

Magically snaking its way unseen

Through the timber in the distance

The air is rich with the scent of green

Of growing things and fresh, clean water

The heavy scent of decaying leaves

Thick black mud and wet earth

Connect you in a visceral way

To the land where you stand

And to the earth that brings forth life


In solitude she let him go

Back into the fabric of land and water

A part of him to stay there forever

The rest to be swept along the currents

Down the river and into the lakes

Through the countryside he loved

Over the falls and past the town

And into the tidal coastal river

Moving with the steady progression

Of time and infinite surety

Towards the Island Deltas

And into the open Atlantic Ocean


Where she placed him

You can not look for him

He is no longer there

There is no final resting place

With earthly remains scattered

His traveller’s soul is gone

To never be seen again

Yet there, everywhere you look

His legacy that of the sailor he was

Separated forever from the confines of land

Unreachable by the family he left

Returning to the place he loved

Amidst the waves on the oceans briny toss

This entry was posted in Relationships and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

12 Responses to scattered ashes

  1. Johnny Ojanpera says:

    Great imagery. It reminds me of a place I hike.

  2. tispersonal says:

    You never cease to amaze me with the imagery that you are able to create with your descriptions and the emotions you are able to bring forth with your choice of words. As always, beautiful!

  3. loneyheart says:

    I love when you write like this. Verbal paintings that seep into the corners of my mind and bring back moments in time, once lost but now as vivid as neon shockwaves in my brain

  4. jayne says:

    My God, you are definitely a painter of words. That was incredible! Thank you, Jayne

  5. mala says:

    are you published? if you’re not, you really should be… everything is so vivid!

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