cattails
May 2016
Haibun
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UHTS collected works


The Final Hike     EC
Bill Gottlieb
USA


Yesterday was five months since I scattered Denise’s ashes. But they didn’t scatter—they dissolved, were washed to nothing in the shallows of the wide. I didn’t know then that I would write so often about her—the repeatable resurrections of art. Or that her fire-born ruins would brand my mind with their swirl and stir, would be washed again and again, the gray to white to gone; the waves, the water that took her, turned into words, lines of words, like the serial surf of an incoming tide. The final hike, that’s what she told me to take. Just you and me. And so I went to Ten Mile Beach, to the mouth of the Ten Mile River—where the osprey dove like gods and killed for life when we watched in wonder, in love.

buzzards
attend the funeral
of a seal