many will remember the calm air
the perfect blue sky
the long line of middle-income sedans
parking to left of the brown brick church
the ceremony’s teary speeches,
each reaching new depths of compassion
and the minister draped in black
smiling with wistful sincerity
many will remember the reception’s overflowing food
and wine and trivial conversations,
crying babies and strong adults
clad in shades of dusk
each of us more sorrowful than the next
all feeling for the parents who lost their first-born son
and now shoulder the unimaginable burden
of accepting our expressions of condolence
we have come to say good-bye,
to pay our respects,
knowing it isn’t easy
letting go
cousins, nieces, nephews, neighbors,
footballers, friends, bakers, bankers,
brothers and sisters
and me
none of us a stranger in every way,
having you to tie our lives together
your sister will recall the first note you sang off-key
and that pitiful look of deep embarrassment
that strode across your baby face
your cousins will recall the boating accident off the cape
when you came so close to capsizing
and I will remember
the first time you said
I’m sorry
and we cried and hugged so tightly
we found our way back to each other
Now someone else must stir the chili
count the ones and fives
sing a cappella
alone in the blue tiled shower
deliver wine
lift boxes
mow the lawn
answer the phone
tuck our daughters into bed
slow dance—his hands not quite fitting like yours
***
Copyright © 11/05/2004 by Christy Munson. All rights reserved.
About the Creator
Christy Munson
My words expose what I find real and worth exploring.
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Comments (1)
Reading your poetry feels like sitting with someone who understands the pain I'm going through. Thank you for putting into words what I couldn't."