Port Soif revisited, on a calm day - Bryony de Lat

Some years away, I may decay, or die today, . . either way
I listed some sick soundtracks, for the day I'm to burn
and at this special venue, may I ask, can you . . .
scatter my ashes, without pomp, turn the urn.

Here, when the tide's high, it's a tropical lagoon
yet some locals still race off, on an annual chase
having saved up their wages, they scour travelogue pages,
but there really is no more beautiful place.

Bryony de Lat