AT MILEPOST 33: A Memorial in 10 Parts

iii.
The sun burns a hole
through blue sky,
waves churn grey-cold, a wintry coffin.
By the time we gather one mile
past the ramp, the sea mirrors
sky.

iv.
The wind lifts
sifts you fine between our fingers;
you want to leave.

With hands lent-like
we walk our paths
salt spray on our cheeks,
hearts to burst, we scatter
you, a final wish.

v.
But I cannot let go.
I have regrets.
I have memories.



***
This, three parts of a ten-part poem taken from parts of five other poems, and re-assembled with linking language. I wrote the five poems over the past 3 years during and after my father's struggle with cancer.

Prompt=mix-up poem.


Peace...