we hiked the trails he hiked
boots trampling the same cherished earth,
and when we were deep enough in the woods
we stopped to sit on a fallen tree
we were in the cathedral of pine and oak
we became reverent
we sat on this log silently, and then Lee
reached into his backpack
pulled out an old herb jar
once used for Rosemary, now filled
with a portion of our dear friend's ashes
our fellow outdoorsman
and we unscrewed the lid
and scattered Henry over the thick ferns
and bowed our heads as the white dust
returned to the soil he loved
without speaking we threw on our packs
picked up our walking sticks, paid homage
quietly in our heads, and continued on....
a little lighter than when we began
except for our hearts
Henry
Re: Henry
I suspect Henry would have approved. Sorry for your loss....
.
"Falsehood flies, the Truth comes limping after it." - Jonathan Swift, ca. 1710
"Falsehood flies, the Truth comes limping after it." - Jonathan Swift, ca. 1710
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