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Ann’s ashes

Ann’s ashes are in the place she wished them to be

If you go to Truro, head of the Pamet, Ballston Beach the gentle slope to the beach is gone

You’ll carefully descend the steep wash of sand or perhaps new wooden steps by the time you get there

Go right

South down the beach a little ways and let your spirit reach out

Ann’s ashes are there in the place she wished them to be

It was a wild bright windy day when she returned and at snow pond too where we all swam and we all laughed . . .

there too she returned a small part of herself

to our memory and our grief

Her grief is gone

Mixed with air light and water in the place she wished to be

from Ann — 10 poems for my daughter — Bill Eberle

May 2010

© 2015, 2026 Bill Eberle