—∞—
It sits there Quietly Facing the rising sun Not a speck of dirt Nothing but the shine Of a pampered black car It’s alone At the head Of a procession Yet to be Formed Automobiles From all over town Friends Relatives But for now No one The lot is empty The funeral home Has no visitors To come see And grieve And mourn And, often, celebrate Whomever Lies alone In the chapel On This hot June day© 2013 Thomas W. Cummins
In a dim light... 
June 22, 2013 at 10:38 am |
Tom – this was pretty amazing to read. Could see (and feel) the scene you describe with clarity – chills ! Excellent work dear friend ~ x RL
June 22, 2013 at 11:26 am |
Thank you, Robyn. What always comes to mind as I run by the funeral parlor’s front door is that there is a file in their office with my name on it. “Keep running!” I tell myself. “Make ’em wait.”
June 22, 2013 at 11:18 am |
Everyone got dressed up in black
some wept profusely, others touched their eyes
the dead lies peaceful in sleep it seems
where will he end up ? can anyone feel
heaven or hell, can anyone tell
am riding , digging and carrying it well
coffin gets lowered, cracking noise die
someone told me, never to climb high
for the dead is listening, speaking too they say
but our reception is not in tune, what a dismay
June 22, 2013 at 11:32 am |
All right, then. A generous and most interesting comment. Thanks!
June 23, 2013 at 9:33 am
🙂