Wake

February 25, 2014

Dark eyes flutter open,
Today was the day;
Black ties and dresses,
Don your somber faces
For now we mourn.
The man buttoned his
Suit jacket carefully,
A wake does not
Call for haste.
Now a slow drive to
The quieter side
Of town, crossing the
Bridge and paying
Respect to those
Who have floated on
Into the ether.

Familiar faces stand
Still, but vibrate
Quietly with tears.
The man gets up,
Wishing to speak his
Thanks and regret,
But none can hear
His whispering.

Alive in every sense
But the obvious.

MSBQ