Monday, December 7, 2009

To Whom

It's a cold, cold day
As we carry him up the muddy hill,
Lower him down into the deep waiting ground
Zipping my jacket and tightening my scarf offer little resistance
Against the chill from the icy wind of death
The minister eulogizes and finally I listen:
"Speak every word as though it's your last," he says
So, just in case,
I forgive you
I'm sorry
I love you

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