Human Composting (100 words/50 words)

Human Composting (100 words)

The world didn’t end with Dad dead.

Only tilted its axis, making the world unfocused.

He was everything to everyone one day,

reborn into a vase, the next.

My brother took dad’s “feet” to a family plot

in a cemetery edged by balding grass,

sealing them in a puka, drilled into a marble

headstone.

It takes over a century for marble to

disintegrate–trapping dad until his “feet”

can feed the soil.

Human composting is not legal in Hawaii,

but the aina already carries the hollow

weight of his heart–bamboo brooms having

swept away the weight of his prints.

 

Human Composting (50 words)

The world’s axis tilted

when Dad died.

He was reborn

into a vase.

My brother sealed

his “feet” in a puka

inside a marble headstone.

In time, his feet

will feed the soil.

Human composting

isn’t legal in Hawaii,

but the aina

carries his heart.

Bamboo brooms

swept his prints.