mother
into another grave.
perhaps one closer,
one beneath a shady tree
with a headstone
and a metal bench
for us to visit, and say
what's on our minds.
let's dig her up, he says.
maybe cremate her, put
her ashes in a jar, one
for each of us.
something for the mantle.
oh, how she must be bent
over in laughter,
at the thought of it all.
No comments:
Post a Comment