MILTON MOON. Waiting for Godness -a narrative poem

August 29, 2016

by Milton Moon.© I’m due to die sooner rather than later. My wife of sixty-seven years has already gone, her mortal remains, in ashes waiting for mine. Together they’ll go, somewhere as part of the seasons or the tides ebb or flow. She is still with me, I talk to her often, burning incense twice a day and telling her “incense is dispersed for the soul of the young girl.”