Spring Burial


A lattice work

Of pale green

New leaves

Just beginning

Their annual opening

It hangs before

A tapestry of deepest

Blue sky


With small

White clouds

Slowly sifting

Across its vast


Above the rangelands

Ripe and rich

And you feel

That the sun

And all of this

Can lessen

The pains

The losses

The clutter and mess

Lying close to the


An attic

Strewn with yesterdays


And tomorrows




All the lessons

We should have learned

Long ago

Like the impermanence of it all

Everything temporarily

In its place

Destined to disappear

These fragile things


Like what comes after

A blow to the shin

Its memory

Crawls along

The nape of

Your neck

Prickling the fine


Until you shiver

Alone in the dark

Calling out

In your mind

To no one

In particular

Hating them all enough

Until they love you

And when they turn you out

To trod upon

The dusty bones of the world

Found only

In those high places

Where the air is thin

And horned sheep

With full curls

Batter each other

In crushing echoes;

None will admit defeat

Because to do so

Would be to confirm

The reality of it all.


When we bury friends

In the sunlit spring

It takes away

A piece of us;

We feel less than

What we were


Laughing at the ways

Of the world

And our brief place in it.



    Erik Hansen    April, 2012


1 Comment

Filed under Edges

One response to “Spring Burial

  1. This poem is for Greg, Tiaina and Adam. They all left us within a couple of weeks of each other and the world is less because of it.

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