Burial poem 8 --34 56' 32.92" N.111 37' 39.36" W.

In the ruins
a stone cabin
fallen deserted
I begin to rebuild the wall
my wife hangs the windows anew
her father raises the front door
her mother arranges the living room
the grandfather prepares the kitchen
the grandmother sets the table
her brother builds the front deck
his girlfriend picks wildflowers
to decorate it all
I give up on the wall
and I'm sure if our aunts, uncles,
cousins
my mother
my father
my sister, my other brother
in-law, and nephew too,
if they were here, they'd all help lay
the roof
or we came to this fallen house
stood before its hearth still standing
took a photo and it's rare
to find someone
who only needs a wink and a smile
though you'll pray to give her more
than you can dream
and even more rare
to find a family
who will let you into this place
and their memories
then give the moment
to bury these words.

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