overlooking warsaw
the youngest remained at her side
questioning how long her fingernails would grow
and slightly uncomfortable thinking
that if she were to grow any (in height)
the coffin would be too small
and placing her hand on her mother's
she envied the coolness of her skin
and her relaxed stiffness
in the lobby, the husband on one side
the live-in boy friend on the other
people paid their respects
by drinking from a magic bottle
and then splitting right down the middle
and remaining personable to both living halves
in the sitting room other daughters cried
men told stories
and egg salad sandwiches from a nearby Pakistani restaurant
were left to die
the procession from toronto to a small northeastern town
was spotted with diamond cabs
cans of beer out windows
and the ashes of a stranger to be dropped off
at the funeral director's convenience
the grave was hastily dug
large rocks keeping bitter grasp on familiar soil
and to the east. the river
and the trees, multicolored
dancing for her last dance
and the river. blue for her in a special way
singing to her, remember me as i remember you
but still there is this hole
and it must be filled
and the casket is heavy
and the sobs are loud
and the youngest has her ring
and her smile
and the river invites her
as the cab and vans and lonely hearts
pull out of this timeless place
and head to the city
Ieaving her uncovered. starring at the trees ablaze
the sun warming
the clouds yielding
the day ending
the memories beginning
Copyright © michael dennis / Ordinary Press 1982
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