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When I die
don’t put me underground
cut down a giant oak
as they did
four thousand years ago
pull out the stump
drag it across the wide salt marsh
with honeysuckle ropes
upend it where the curlews call
lay me across its outstretched hand
under the sun, the moon
the turning stars
encircle me in
fifty trunks of oak
each split in two
fold a seamless skin of bark around my bier
leave me the smell of fresh cut wood
the shine of pale oak flesh
the sound of wind and tide
birds will clean my bones
midsummer’s rising sun will
find me through the keyhole of the east
and when midwinter sunrise looks for me
I will be gone.
Winning poem in the Sampad competition and published in their anthology Inspired by my Museum.
Note: Seahenge on the Norfolk coast is a prehistoric monument built in the 21st century BC.
