- CRUMBS
-
- Some say the purest death
- is to be ravaged alive
- by beasts.
- A final communion with creation
- and instinct.
- I could give myself to the lions
- as red men gave their flesh
- with joy to birds of prey, a feast
- laid high on offering altars of pine,
- their bodies rising
- bite by bite to fill
- the mouth and longing arms
- of God.
- If I should die on African soil
- at the pawing of tigers or men,
- I pray the ants will piggyback my
- sunpressed crumbs across
- each undulation
- of the ancient and barebreasted earth
- and leave me soul to soil,
- to nurse the hungry wild
- and mingle with the stars.
- Pamela Cocke |
