Tuesday, April 25, 2017


Into the church
we few mourners gather
close to the small table
filled with a photo 
of a smiling
young man,
a single candle,
and a golden cube.

I did not know him
whose ashes
now lay within 
that dark space.

Old friends, his parents, 
and so we came
to keep them company.

We pray the sacred
texts, sing holy 
mass to send 
his lingering soul
sweeping home

to Heaven,

but his mother weeps 
in the silent repose
of ancient pain.

1 comment:

  1. There are deeper possibilities here. Sets our imaginations to wonder.