The "no immediate survivors"

We gathered our grief at the day'a end when
There in his classical garden with impatience in bloom
We talked of him, avoiding our task 'til them
For a moment we created the wake's parting gloom
The accountant nervously went out to his car
And got the ashes he'd hid in a peanut butter jar

We spoke and walked to Dick's favorite tree
Pulling back the earth near the roots at the base
There his last cinders were forever left to be
Each handful carried friends warm memories trace
Amid the full order of his beauty's flowered place
Which accepted, as nature does, all its passengers
Turned knowing his thank you to our goodbyes in soul's face
As the day`s shadows fell on we his "no immediate survivors"

Oct 20, 1978