Ushered Into Clay

A drop of sweat, a trail of spit

In candle’s light caress: that corporeal mess

Amidst bandages, neatly folded and

Lovingly perfumed and anointed.

In fresh turned earth the bed is made

And, once laid, the sweetest scent

(like dead daisies) issues forth

From that rocky soil, enticing

The beasts of the earth to come,

To feast.