Book of the Dead

too long she spent, searching
upriver and down
while he sailed on
without her
and she could only follow

behind and
too late

she cursed the river
that carried him away
until the waters dried to
stone
and slowed his passing

found, she
left him in his box
left him protected, but
left him like he'd
left her

returning to desecration
he lay scattered piecemeal,
shattered
by brotherly hands

once again she searched,
gathered piece by piece
missing flesh and bone
knitted both until they resembled
wholeness

thus enshrined
she buried her dead
and waited
for his return

© Sept. 23, 2006

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