Carol Leff
The family graveyard in Schuinsdrift is filling up, the earth still loose after Lanz’s early departure. “Avec wine, women and song” reads Uncle Alf’s epitaph, testament to how he lived. Aunt Hazel, who rode a Harley on her 80th, lies a tight fit between Granny’s feet and the doringdraad fence. Rosebushes from Italy flower over mounds that hone bones of young cousins. When I go, do not bury me here (you know I am claustrophobic!) but rather scatter my ashes near the eye of the Marico river so I may return to the source.
[Avbob Poetry Project 2017 / stanzas 13, Sept 2018]
Featured on 8 April 2021
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