Wednesday, February 18, 2015


In memory of Jack and Bonnie Owen and with love to Gladys Owen, their mother. I miss you all.

* * *

Six strong men
lower him into
the hole in earth.
Swallow him down
crumble, return to soil
on a cold day
to colder ground.

And still tears flow
and blackness creeps
the land of light
misty rains turn fog
on a February night.

Old woman sitting
old daughter with her
crying inside
melting the facade
gotten older in a week
wrinkles newly dug

No tears
like a tree
lest weariness
take her down
into the mouth
dug by machine.

Dealt him cruelly
below the murk
the man
shredded to bone
his son saw all
on TV.

And confusion
and horror
and silence
and grief
and crying.
And crying.
Black hugging his body,
spirit touch heaven
and finally

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