N a p a l m H e a l t h S p a : R e p o r t 2 0 1 0

DAVID COPE

Thornapple

my mother disappeared

in swirling waves

when children & friends

poured her ashes

into the river near her old

bedroom window

my sister reached into the bag

& scattered the last ashes

across the water, slapped

her hands together,

dust flying out: wild rose

on the high bank beyond