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The Funeral MAG
Champagne and chocolate cake, he said,
the dead man.
They listened
of course they did. But they know Death
and he is not
champagne and chocolate.
Try as you like,
funerals
are all the same.
Celebrate, he said,
the dead man.
But still
they have dressed themselves in black.
All, that is, but the little boy.
Grandson, perhaps?
He has lost mother
wandering
knee-high
among suit-clad giants.
His shirt is baby blue and
still wide-eyed for the touch of life
he laughs at their shiny black shoes, click-clicking on the church-stone floor.
He is a blue jay
in a flock
of crows.
No more grandpa. He doesn't understand.
“Do you remember him?” they'll ask, years from now, dead concern still lingering in their eyes.
“No.
Not really.” Pause.
“I was still
a blue jay then.”
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Favorite Quote:
'Nothing lasts forever. Forever's a lie. All we have is what's between hello and goodbye.' Unknown