When I die
I will not be put in a
box and lowered in the ground.
I know, I won’t know a thing, but
I know now and I even dread
having to submit
to a MRI,
and I think
when I die
perhaps I’ll hover
all claustrophobic over the
grave unable to breathe
as I look down at the body placed
in the box buried six feet
under in a real tight space.
So, just burn me up fast and
cast my ashes to the wind
in the sand dunes
where I have loved to run
with
Chocolate Labs
and where I have
breathed deeply of the
breeze off the Big Lake.
Toss the dogs’ ashes with mine
when I die
so all those ashes can
breathe deeply of
the breeze off the Big Lake
when I die.