Black Japara
Bury me with my old black japara on a hill overlooking the ocean.
Give away my organs and money and things
but bury me with that old black japara
It was with me when I whispered things buried deep within
It was with me when the sleeting rain and ocean spray aroused in me
that which time and space cannot capture
in dark nights starlit skies
it knows my secrets
Bury me with my old black japara on a hill overlooking the ocean
wrap me like one who loved me
poem by Ian Hall
Added by Poetry Lover
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