Peace at last - I wish to be buried in a plain wooden box, with a plain woolen cloth...

I wish to be buried

in a plain wooden box,

with a plain woolen cloth

under a plain wooden cross.

By the wee murky river

that flows as if below the sea.

Near that crock old house

and the large devils tree

Down some old gravel lane

with the big iron gates.

In the middle of the field,

Where the graves are old and all,

lie and wait.

This poem was published in Golden Hour - Hora Dorada

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