words

Dust I am
to dust I will return
Just simple words
unadorned sounds
to be hidden under rocky mounds
The dust thou art
A truth
that will become words
homespun stories
embroidered glories
along with luke warm wine
to be shared
beside my unmarked grave
that’s what I will become
small congregations of words
describeth a man
marketh a grave
in the fragrant klein karoo
where the dry breeze
will kiss my parched spirit
undressed
resting
under a bed of ancient stones
in a sacred zone
when I am called home
to add to a collection of buried bones
©tumie01