My north star

The funeral was yesterday.
Lily-scented stillness and
prerecorded Hymns
on loop singing
of infinity infinitely,
or at least
it felt that way to my 40-
year old body and
10 year old soul.

I didn’t cry,
even bombarded
by scents reminiscent
of your lemony polish and
En Jolie powder
faithfully applied
from the body puff
now used
as the mourners’
pre-embalming ritual.

I spoke clearly,
cheerfully even,
of memories,
and long-remembered,
passed-down stories
of youthful follies
and days gone by.

Later, on the hill
behind the house,
I drank honeyed tea
from your delicate
Japanese china cup, cracked
so many tea parties ago.
And alone watched the stars
rise above darkened
tree-tops as I cried
and named a constellation
after you.

14 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Thomas
    Sep 23, 2012 @ 13:37:06

    Beautiful. I enjoyed this one very much.


  2. Gaurav Julka
    Sep 30, 2012 @ 08:20:14

    Elegant Read 🙂


  3. Gaurav Julka
    Oct 01, 2012 @ 07:21:41

    Whimsy, You should really publish an eBook (on Amazon) with all your poetry. Its really good!


  4. Virgilio Gavia
    Oct 05, 2012 @ 13:40:14

    so moving. beautifully written.


  5. perlesink
    Oct 15, 2012 @ 20:56:08

    perfectly written story – been there – thanks for putting words to my visit to that place on a similar day.


  6. warmginger
    Oct 16, 2012 @ 04:53:42

    I loved this! What a beautiful start to my writing day.


  7. jabudde
    Oct 17, 2012 @ 15:02:38

    Very moving poem.


  8. duncancleary
    Oct 20, 2012 @ 22:56:42

    Very well done.


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