A Wake
- bethblairnh8
- Nov 11, 2023
- 1 min read
How thin the line
between the silent
remains of our friend
and the line of living
friends who file past.
Some kneel to pray
or say hello, some
turn their backs as
if by doing so her
death can be undone.
The family stands to
receive our sorrow
and careful words of
comfort. The room
fills. Voices that were
hushed grow louder.
Laugher rings out.
Memories bloom.
Our friend is alive in
the stories that are
shared. So...who or
what exactly is in that
polished wooden box?
For while our friend
is gone, she feels
so very here.
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