The boy and his funeral
The day was longer than any I’d ever known
the first scent of strange smells forever remembered
I stood close by my brothers side
staring ahead at the strange scene before my eye’s
the white box as pure
as winters snow
one row of chairs ahead
And such a small box it was
just over the top edge beneath the open lid I saw a face
I would never see again in this life
a face so resembling my own
what is this thing they called death ?
why was my eight year old brother there
as if laying soft asleep
And came the hymns never heard before
the strange man in a white collar spreading the
words from an open bible
and the uncles lifting the closed coffin
to carry away from a family
for all time
I listened as crying and sniffles
died away to silence
But in a green grassy cemetery the waiting begins
cars with lights ablaze in mid day july
my mother dropping to her knees at the pile
of freshly shoveled soil
her cries rising to the blue clear sky
and we all began to cry
what is this incredible shock
that never will end ?
And now an old man who dresses in corduroy jacket
with a denim shirt and tie
sad eyes and shaking hands
stands stoically and listens once again
they who died young and they die again now
these brothers so many
And he thinks often how he does not
want to be the last
please god no not the last
- Open Range - May 2, 2024
- Whispers among the balsams…. - May 8, 2023
- Do not stand at my grave ………. - April 19, 2023
Losing a child is perhaps the worst experience, especially for a parent. Nicely rendered and emotive, very sad and filled with imagery. Well penned Ed. ( by the way ‘one last time’)
Heart-breaking and well penned work, Ed.
Ah Tony , Thank you for that and for sharing !