Funeral on the 23rd of December.
The hard ground
and the soft snow
cracked and caressed the shuffling feet
Whilst this winter chilled us all above and below.
A few heavy laden folk turn up too slowly
With the noise of xmas disrespectfully ringing in their ears.
What a day for dust.
And ash.
And snow.
A day negated by eve,
lived only through some hurried stuff and nae work.
The bells and the holly aren’t even for him,
But for a cross Pinnochio, who,
on occasion,
condescends to this place.
With this man,
I lie white cold,
Like a thoughtless gift in a decorative box.
Well written poem. So sad to have a funeral so close to Christmas.
ReplyDeleteSad poem.
ReplyDeleteMakes me think of a story in the news, a woman was missing and her body was found by people walking their dog christmas day, so so sad.
Hey guys. Thanks for reading my stuff. I think you're both right; tragedy at christmas time is veneered with an extra layer of melancholy and sadness - which is one thing i was trying to convey in my poem.
ReplyDelete