Abstract conversations filter through

The tranquil din, trapping themselves

Quietly, in misty eyes and sad smiles.

The casket is long and brown,

Hidden in every face as they carry it

Towards an empty open.

Soft wind and warm sunlight merge

Forming little thermals across the lawn

And birds swoop deeper as they pass.

The soil is fragile, breaking into bits

As they dig at it, six times six.

Only wet handkerchiefs flutter now,

Because he was life, and now

He is dead- silence marks respect.

I was never one for funerals

But as they lower him, gently

Towards dampened earth and darkness

Light music fills my ears.

I didn't know him, but it was beautiful.

A/n: I know I've repeated the "as they..", but somehow I couldn't change it.