The Man in the Casket
Silence.
The air is cold and heavy,
death has bad effects on weather.
It's been raining,
my boots...
A scream.
The priest said something.
The widow reacted.
Her daughter wailed.
My heart was broken.
Such scenery
is not good for my soul.
It mines some buried memories
about my favorite girl.
That woman
deserved more years
but
death knows no gamble.
His sister talks about him
the man in the casket.
How kind he was
his love for his family
and community.
A few wails
go round
and I turn
to face south
only to be faced
by an empty grave
below two occupied ones.
The man in the casket
followed his eldest son
who died young and drunk
one year after his grandfather.
I was on my feet
with the first thud of wet soil
hitting the casket below.
I inhaled death
the questions it leaves behind
it's unpredictability
on taking souls
we are already attached to.
The wind carried
my blinded self to the gates
where I burst into tears
yelling whhhhhyyy
in my overwhelmed mind.
The man in the casket
was a beloved uncle,
May he rest well.
Taken Friday last week.
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Thank you for coming.
