Sunday, 5 November 2017

Cold Comfort

Lawyers shuffled papers
But in the end, what remained
Was burnt at night
Without ceremony
Or public access,
And the furnace
Industrially cleaned.

Ashes contained
In a soluble urn of salt
Were flung
Into the sea
At a location
Unrecorded,
Impossible to find.

Authorities breathed
A sigh of relief,
But those grieving
For the victims
Continued to do so,
Deriving cold comfort
From this procedure.

© David Subacchi

Moors Murders: Ian Brady's ashes disposed of at sea

David Subacchi lives in Wales (UK) where he was born of Italian roots. He studied at the University of Liverpool and has 4 published collections of his English Language poetry: First Cut (2012), Hiding in Shadows (2014), Not Really a Stranger (2016) and A Terrible Beauty (2016) as well as a collection in Welsh: Eglwys Yng Nghremona (2016).

2 comments:

  1. Indeed. No comfort for those affected. 'Impossible to find' seems to have more than one meaning here, to me.

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  2. Cold comfort resonates with me

    ReplyDelete