top of page

Scatter My Ashes

​

Scatter my ashes in the hollows and cracks

of memory familiar and warm.

Scatter my ashes down the roads and the tracks,

so they’ll settle in the place I was born.

​

And if the winds will to raise

my remains, don’t protest.

They can blow me from Long Beach to Clare.

Just hold my vessel to your chest.

​

Scatter my ashes wherever you will,

by the sea or by the highlands.

Scatter my ashes in a garden still

where I laid every stone with my hands.

​

And if the winds will to raise

my remains, don’t protest.

They can blow me from my heart to yours.

Just hold my vessel to your chest.

​

I don’t need your tributes.

I don’t need your cheers.

I don’t need you whoring out your soul.

I don’t need your memories.

I don’t need your tears.

I don’t need to have the starring role .

​

Scatter my ashes, scatter my heart

where brown eyes and a bishop and bluebells are.

Scatter my ashes for as soon as you start,

I’ll be there to mend over a scar.

bottom of page