Ceremony

The rock they burned the flags on is an anvil, rusted black by the river
long before the fire. I remember the boy scouts jumping around,
glad to be near the water, and oblivious to the occasion.
I asked the man what was happening,
and he told me what I suspected: Retirement,
following which the ashes would be interred with all due ceremony.
This is one way to say goodbye to things respected but worn out.
I had no image that day of a dog's body and no place to bury it,
or a longship waiting by the fishing pier
to carry a warrior's flaming corpse to sea.

February 13 2018