as Valhalla comes

it was a long days stretch

in strands of sunlight

we see him laid to rest

holding paper fragments

the people gather

going in circles as if at Kaaba

torches are lit and waved

tossed onto the pyre

sati voices scream

as Asgard watches

for the power of the gods

About Lindsay Craik

Writer & Poet Poetry, plays and short stories
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