The Funeral


In a house of God,
that I have long neglected,
I beg for forgiveness.

As hard oak polished with resin
rests beneath my clasped palms,
fingers laced tight
in an attempt to ground myself,

I kneel.
Hoping to appear mournful
as a long-rejected child of God,
in the eyes of those around me.

The smell is hard to forget,
incense and lilies.
Laurel and roses
all decorate
your careworn face.



It looks unfamiliar,
staring at the pictures
that were taken long before I existed.
A person I realized
I didn't know as well as I thought.

What memories I do have,
I'm scared of losing
in the fog and TV static of my mind.

I'm so scared of the memories fading,
that I feel a debilitatingly desperate
pull to etch the memories
into my bones.
Because the skin just isn't deep enough.

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Key Words : house, God, neglected, beg, forgiveness, rests, beneath, clasped, palms, fingers, laced, attempt, ground, myself, kneel, mournful, rejected, child, eyes, those, around, smell, forget, incense, lilies, laurel, roses, careworn, face, unfamiliar, staring, pictures, memories, scared, losing, static, mind, fading, debilitating, desperate, etch, bones, skin, deep, enough.

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  1. Grace Cozzens

    This is beautiful. The imagery of the oak and resin, along with religion and grief, the smells of the flowers and incense. I was there. I've been in this position before, and you've described it so beautifully. I'm so sorry for your loss, and thank you. Thank you for weaving it into this beautiful work.


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