Seaweed by Phil Elverum

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PacoBelan
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Seaweed by Phil Elverum

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Our daughter is one and a half, you have been dead eleven days

I got on the boat and came to the place where the three of us were going to build our house if you had lived

You died though, so I came here alone with our baby and the dust of your bones

I can't remember, were you into Canada geese?

Is it significant, these hundreds on the beach?

Or were they just hungry for mid-migration seaweed?

What about foxgloves? Is that a flower you liked?

I can't remember, you did most of my remembering for me

And now I stand untethered in a field full of wild foxgloves

Wondering if you're there, or if a flower means anything

And what could anything mean in this crushing absurdity?

I brought a chair from home, I'm leaving it on the hill

Facing west and north, and I poured out your ashes on it

I guess so you can watch the sunset

But the truth is I don't think of that dust as you

You are the sunset.
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