Ashes Poem by Richard Cole

John Lacher,1928-2010


Heavier than you’d think
if you think of ashes,
a man’s worth
tucked in a box now
passed from one
relation to the next
as we scatter what remains
on Puget Sound, though
“scatter” is too light
a word. These ashes
plunge, I say
plunge into the cold,
clear water, bone chips
and bits that even the straight
blast of the furnace couldn’t finish.
If you had known this man,
even from a distance,
you would have felt
how hard he burned
himself with blindness
and sturdy rage,
with the diligent weight
he carried in love for others.

And if you had loved him,
even from a distance, you
weren’t surprised how
his dust behaved like stars,
the million particles trailing
clouds of milky smoke
like galaxies, as beautiful
and constant as anything else
burning in the sky.