Newgrange Innisfree Viking burial (after WB Yeats)

Bury the dead under a capstone dolmen
But make sure they face the light
Illuminate the space for drawings
Keepsakes you’ll need to take for the afterlife

The squaw sits in the canoe
Arms folded no sounds but the
Lake water lapping like the low
Sounds your mother made
By the drum beat and circle

Coins on the eyes drifting into
Valhalla or set alight
Little torches cast across the
Sea, the home of us
Of all.