I spread your ashes
in the bark-bowl of an old tree,
fire's embers red-hot, sizzling,
the last of your radiant beauty
aflame against black night.
Coyote Woman prays, voice and drum,
at the river, asking it to flow,
serene as a dream of atonement,
its song teaching us what it is
to give, to forgive,
and to finally let go.
For Words Count With Mama Zen: to use the list words and write a poem of 60 words or less. I used bark / ashes / to flow / fire / black / old / what / to give. My poem is 60 words, counting hyphenated words as one word.