Burial

In the past we busted ass
To dig that six foot hole
No more no less
The depth was blessed
Laws said
It must be so

My father feared
Being buried alive
I almost put a bell
In his hand so he
Would know I
Listened for the knell

No embalming
No pre-view of death
No stones were piled
Upon the grave
To keep
Wild animals away

For in the past
Graves didn't last
High waters
Wild animals
Construction
All took away

Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust
I think in death
We may discover
It's not an ending
Simply an Other

Five Sentence Fiction: Ending

What it’s all about:   Five Sentence Fiction is about packing a powerful punch in a tiny fist. Each week I will post a one word inspiration, then anyone wishing to participate will write a five sentence story based on the prompt word. The word does not have to appear in your five sentences, just use it for direction.  Prompt by Lillie.  This week: ENDING 

The tribe awoke to deep snow marred only by the departing tracks of Two Dogs.  He knew it was his time to leave without becoming a burden to his people causing their exodus to slow.  It was tradition.  Two Dogs, to the tribe, was no more although they would sing songs of his life and remember his greatness as a husband, father, grandfather and great warrior.  Horses blew ice from their nostrils, dogs shook off the snow from the storm, and the keening of one child grew louder as all voices became one melding into the tribal death song.