My ashes blew away long ago
On autumn winds bound south by southeast
Back home to the sawgrass swaying
Marsh hen awkwardly ascending
Now I rest in the old mans beard,
and the branch it calls home with
The wings of the morning dove
The bullfrog burps me after a meal
The sandgnats love my zesty spice
I see all this from above as a speck
On the *** of a giant albatross