"Good-Bye"

On a lonely ridge, an old man stands,
An oaken vessel in his hands.

He moves forward and stands sound
On the rough stones of the high ground.

Far below in the valley deep
Is a wide and endless evergreen sea.

The old man's thin, gray hair whips in the cold breeze
While his long, dark coat twists and flaps at his knees.

The old man removes the cover of the vessel with arthritic hands
And sets free the contents, offering them to the quiet land.

The fine dust is carried far and wide by the wind.
There will be no more; it's final...the end.

The curtain of ashen snow is lost forever to the tall timber.
The old man returns the cover to the oaken container.

He clutches the vessel tight to his breast
And looks up to the fiery clouds in the west.

Ever weakening is the crimson light,
For it is now nearly night.

A single tear tumbles from the old man's eye
As he slowly retreats from the rim and simply whispers, "Good-bye."

Somehow the wind seems to wail back a reply,
"Don't worry. I'll see you again sometime."

---

Originally written:    March 27, 1999
Put online:    March 18, 2001
Discussion:    I think this poem is pretty easy to figure out. It's about a man who releases his dead wife's ashes to the Earth.


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