Poem For Marion

Pond

Mourning under The Oak Tree
I nuzzle into its bark
And avail myself
Of its warty comfort
Surrounded by seeds
And the rays of the sun
Yet all I can think of
Is your passing away – your transmigration
What I loved of you
Has not been erased
Now you’ve been transformed
Granted a new face
May the Buddha’s lift you up
To the highest heaven
Whilst I ruffle your white hair
One last time
And kiss you into infinity.

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