Sitting in silence, head bowed, eyes lowered,
Awaiting the tribute that
sorrow bestows.
Most stalwart patrons are
stoic, unmoving
Except for a jostle to reset
position.
Dressed up in finery,
scrubbed and bejeweled,
Ladies in hats, overdone in
perfume.
Men pulling ties from the
back of the closet,
Hoping that no one will
notice the stain.
Laughter of children noticeably
absent.
Dare not expose. Would not
understand.
Craving a cigarette, fighting
the urge.
Will anyone notice if I sneak
away?
Somewhere a whimper, a
sniffle or cough
Reminds the gathered that
life still exists,
Moving with surety sunrise to
sunset, then
Resting a bit to start over
again.
After the weeping and wailing
is over,
After the tissues are all
thrown away,
After the sorrow evolves to
remembrance,
Let there be laughter;
Let there be food.
No comments:
Post a Comment