The Burning Of Gilgamesh

I hollowed out a vessel
from the yielding basswood,
placed you inside and
tacked a paperboard lid on top.
It was my own hand
fed Gilgamesh to the pyre.
The rain tried to drown your flame but
a strong spirit swims through either,
and gone you were,
and ash remains.
And some will say,
“It was only a fish.”
I am only a man.

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