Celtic Burial

Ivory innocent too young to die;
forest whispers why. Verdure covers her.
Indigo eyes now sleep, no longer cry;
harsh life's antidote - a killing measure.

Celtic snakes carved on a wooden casket;
flute notes tie and entwine the branchéd wood.
Wrens dart trailing reeds through curving foulards
where eggs lie still in braided baskets.

Women lead processions into the copse
Chant haunting songs for resurrecting breath
Even-fall sifts lattice leaves, linnet calls.

Murmurs of incantations for the corpse;
shoes leave footprints upon the eager earth.

One bell tolls. Beyond the mottled light falls.

© Gay Reiser Cannon * All Rights Reserved
This is my link for dVerse Poets Open Link Night, week 44.