5) Burial

5) Burial
As I walked toward sea,
Dark, silent, with quickly
Moving feet,
A funeral procession,
Turned the corner with me.

A black box,
Freshly screwed tight, covered
With white cloth, floated
On shoulders, along with
The rhythmically moving footsteps;
I followed.

Made heavy by dew drops,
Grass blades bent, touched and released,
Their burden on my feet, as I stood,
Alone in the burial grounds, unable to
Wipe out the memories, like tears,
As people did, when they left me,
Standing like the marble slabs
To let dew drops escape to the ground.

I left, trailing behind,
Etching strange patterns,
My unburied coffin.