shadow424

GRAVESIDE PRIEST

from a distance

his voice sounds dense,

muffled, like words

from underwater

 

mourners stand under

mist clouds

 

dull gray shadows

form behind

bronze angels

and plastic flowers

 

the mourners

clasp hands

as if glued together,

stoic, motionless,

heads bowed

 

a light rain begins

touching everything,

 

a solemn baptism

for a departing soul