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.