MAIDEN NAME

In death let us
collaborate:

You skate towards me
in your fur shell

there will be loads of fish
all shades of pink.

Our horse it wades,
parades,
beyond the rocky spit.

And tall tipped paper crowns,
a mother and her purse,
are swinging from the sidelines.

I come from a collection of what I carry –
the grass so pale it could be paper.