A FUNERAL

The family sits aside, in a booth-box

Reserved for them, the widow sobbing,

The son holding back tears, the daughter

Peaceful in her sure belief in God --

All hidden, by a veil, from the friends

And colleagues of the dead man. The pall-

Bearers bear the casket in, to the chapel

Of a Hickman Avenue branch of the Dunn

Funeral Parlor, while the Hammond

Shrills out a voluntary. The pastor

Says a few words about life everlasting;

The congregation sings Nearer, My God

And, then, files past the coffin for a last

Look. Alone, the family goes, a group, to say

Goodbye, and the prodigal stoops over

To kiss the corpse, finding his father's lips

As hard and cold as ever, as hard and

Cold as the marble sets in the sockets

Of the eyes, sent, after death, to the

Capital City Eye Bank where they live

On, staring and mindless. Outside,

The fat black limousines cue up for

The long ride, out to the cemetery,

Headlights dimmed by the daylight.

At the family plot, ashes and roses,

Regrets and all the dreams of yesterday

Are lowered, on pulleys, into a 3 by 6 foot grave.