Lines in the Nature of an Epitaph

Take the "e" out of dead
and it's dad

there upon the shelf.
Or a portion of himself,
carbonized and sealed tight

in a small, decorative urn.

I watched you burn
and to energy return,
and to memory (like ash
all too easily scattered
and lost) turn.

A rite of passage
for each of us.

I moved into a world without you,
you moved from flesh to dust
(and, of course, as noted previously
memory and energy).

A decorative urn.
A tender space in my heart.
A liberated soul
infusing
Eternity.

there are, I suppose,
worse things
to be.

- for my father, Kenneth Cody (1947-2004) -