what next will come

the sky is woven
in steel cloth, it rolls
unbroken
as far as the naked eye
can see.
a field of blue
and grey.
a good day for a burial,
it seems.
our time will come
and others will stand
beside our
grave
and say words, or say
none. to each his own
reward,
off to heaven or to hell,
who's to know
what next will come.