'Last Rites' - Writers Block Poetry Contest Week 6

“if it were me          i think
   i’d like to be

                     symbolic

as i’m jettisoned       away

and have the fire arrows
rain heroics
           on my small canoe”

                      -

to start to be forgotten
as she’d lived,

an upstream paddler

             who took rapidity
                      of life
                           as given.

this was dangerous
 to speak of on a sunday

 in an undemanding room
off main street,

      long before the noon
that neither of us
      knew the meaning of.

exchanging vows
               of stewardship
in the event that-
             should the worst-

as casually as travel plans,
           irreverent with
our as yet untested
           sense of
immortality.

so if i find myself
                                  in time
consulting blueprints
for a nordic pyre ship,

and brushing up
on archery,

and next to me
another man is fashioning
a scatter box

and him, a cryo-tube,
and him-

i’ll try to be
accommodating.

all of us
at one point or another
sign
                   unspoken pacts
on quiet sundays.

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Original Photo Manipulation
of a publicly available Image

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This poem is a submission to the Writers' Block Poetry Contest - Week 6. Thank you to @thewritersblock for hosting such a great competition each week, and all the sponsors that make it possible. I'm constantly amazed by how many great opportunities the community on steemit provides to new writers to help them gain exposure. One day, I hope, I will be able to return the favour!

Thanks for reading.