The funeral


A FATHER’S FUNERAL
by justme

Darkened cavalcade slow yet fast, streams the streets of living past
Turns the bends of childhood days
While sweeping clouds and coloured greys
Once spent with smiling innocence
When dreams looked out and made such sense
Landmarks still and stubborn dress
Mark the time, when hours, no press
When running was, just for fun, and every memory, always the sun.

Mumbling men in funeral black, step within a drizzling haze
Black knee length coats
Bought for just, such days
From hearse to tail tiered by love
From deepest hurt, to respecting shove.
It’s reached the church as road runs out,
Life in the distance, seems to roar and shout

Flailing, weeping child pulls and twangs even a heart of stone
As gazers drain each tear and sob, as the closest cling to him, alone.
Just to have one second more, to say,
I have loved you always and not just this day.
Why should they dress and move accord the man
Who whispers instruction for all to follow, his plan.

Sweet silence descends the pious place, as some just hold, pious
a memoried face
Which even now, begins to slip,
Amongst crumbling tissues and sibling grip
Angels sing, and then some people talk,
The priest address, the undertakers stalk

Still the closest, talk just to him
Welling sadness soon to reach the brim.

Slowly lowered one side too high
A single rose and a wish to die. A fathers gone,
Nothing anyone can do.
a mother and daughter and a bond so true.

A loving husband and father, underneath a hill of clay
Struggled all his life
Just to be here,
today.

Credits: poem @justme; Image@ CatrinPhoto; All rights reserved

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