we wait
for the call, while my
father's ashes,
in an urn,
sit on
the mantle, near
the television. he loved
c-span.
so we turn the sound
up
so that he can hear
what's going on in the world
he's no longer
a part of.
we wait over a year,
to find out
when a space
has opened up to place
his box of ashes in.
the flag,
the twenty-one gun
salute
and all that jazz
in Arlington,
but for now,
he's resting quietly
on the mantle,
listening to his
favorite shows on
television.
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