Pyre

As Luke carries him to his ship, Vader wheezes

& rasps, close to his end. Luke, he implores,

help me take this mask off. Luke freezes.

But you’ll die. Vader gasps. Just for

 

once let me look on you with my own

eyes. Luke lifts off the mask. Inside is the ruined

face of a man, pale & scarred from a duel on

Mustafar.* Now go my son, Anakin

 

says without his signature inhalations,

leave me. But Luke carries his father

to his ship & flies to Endor. There, the good son

lights a pyre, & flames whip & lash at the mask. Others

 

party, but Luke stands alone, flashing a quick grin

at the ghosts of Yoda, Obi-Wan, & Anakin.**

 

* This is what happens when a stud like Obi-Wan tells you not to try it and you try it.

** The trilogy, alas, is over. Now all you have to look forward to in the next 32 years is Jar Jar Binks. Yousa screwed. Meesa screwed. We allsa screwed.

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