
Like A Torn Manuscript
it’s raining like someone died.
not that I’ve ever been to a funeral
where it rained, although there was
that cold one with wind blowing
straight off the frozen Søby Fjord.
roses thrown on his grave, froze.
that fjord was still frozen when we
returned. same church. same grave.
his wife died 2-months after him.
or the one with autumn colours,
a day sunny as wind chimes, but
it was a slaughter of emotion, or
there was the tranquil one that we
watched behind covid-safe windows.
a burnt sky. curtained nothingness.
and then there was the one at night.
darkness. moonlight and stars, and
earth reclaiming her borrowed time.
funerals are
like a torn manuscript.
Written for Miz Quickly’s Day 24: Rains Like. Image is Unsplash. Shared with @Experimentsinfc #APoemADay on Twitter ©Misky 2021
10 responses to “A Second One for Miz Quickly’s Day 24”
Really good, but Brr-rrrr-rrrrcold.
You rock, MIsky.
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Winter hates my family, Ron.
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Really beautiful – so many wonderful images.
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Thanks so much, Worms.
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Love the imagery and the inevitability captured in that final couplet.👏👍
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The worst one was the Covid funeral. I remember thinking it felt like a puppet show. Or a Punch and Judy show. It was horrific.
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My mum in law died during the last big lock-down. I had to give the eulogy to a sea of masked tearful faces. It was awful. 😢
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(sigh) I hate what this virus is doing to us all. I fear we are changed by it forever.
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And it is not finished yet! 😢
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No, it’s not, not by a long shot.
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