We had planned on and off for months
to bring the last of his ashes sitting
somewhat patiently at the foot of my bed
in the black recyclable box, the lid
partially open, some days a door stop
until the dust and lint of life now
nudged loudly about resting in peace
Yesterday the sons, the sweet girlfriend
who gently suggested we all go and I
checked for the possibility of rain
knowing there would be countless little brooks
and slippery fallen leaves making hills a challenge
plus it was written in bold black on the calendar
What I carried was approximately four pounds
of such white compared to the dark earth
I'd been digging in for hours talking
to plants I hope to save through winter
wearing a white V-neck t-shirt of his
and white pants because I also had
bleaching and cleaning on my agenda
interrupted by the kitchen clock shouting four
I had jotted down the twisting back road
directions on one of his large index cards
and brought water, an empty plastic bag
(my reasons were against park rules)
but harmless in the grand scheme
and we walked across a new bridge over
untroubled waters up hills, through trees
The place where he proposed marriage
without even a ring and the path from
over thirty years ago was not the same
having just shown our wedding album
recently shocking them by throwing it out
Halfway up one son offered to carry
his father as I became short of breath
At trails' end, some of us sat while
I opened the bag, selecting a special spot
by an old tree covered in Bittersweet
where the sun light touched star moss
and he, like sand, like salt, like sugar
was lifted by a sudden wind shift blowing
back in faces watching as I flung
his fineness, his ashes, his dust
his humility, his honesty, his last
will and testament request to be
scattered here and I said aloud
no prayer, no words of parting just
that he please stop roaming the house
and be at peace with his universe
Amen.