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Cable

'Would you be kind enough Sir,
 To bury our son with all due rites',
 The cable plainly said without a tear,
 A distant mother's practical prayer
 In queer English,

 Though the last letter
 Still loud with cheer
 In her shaking hand
 From one
 Who ventured far
 Into an unheard of land
 Of promise

 And the alarm clock for her
 Who would be needing time no longer
 And the plastic clips from Japan
 She did not want sent,
 Like his remains
 Unclaimed forever.

 All she accepted were the stamped
 Certificates proclaiming his name
 And the cancelled passport
 From which he kept looking up at her
 With the same smart smile
 Forever.

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