Woods near Oele, 1908 by Piet Mondrian
Yesterday, in a pop-up tent café,
Two dozen met for tea, cake and
To exchange our thoughts on funerals and death.
Vajrayanan Buddhist Pat said she’d like a sky burial
For herself; chopped into bits and left upon
A mountain shelf for birds to eat their fill
But, since this is deemed unseemly in North
Wales, despite an abundance of such hills, felt
That beetles, worms and rodents, could well fit the bill.
Discourse done, led by a birdsong guide, we plied
Woodland paths and tracks with Bluebell dells on
Either side, each housing plots of those who’d died
And wherein now reside, just feet from where we stood.
Some among the strollers had their own reserved
For years and which, with their pets, they yearned
To occupy. Not so my wife and I, who, when driving
Home, wondered were it quite our style and thought
We ought to muse on it a while.
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