Tears of a now forgotten sky
inch into the ceremony as my horror
hits home of this goodbye, purpled by the
purr of entrance.
Inside they come and fidget till
comfort passifies their needs of mourn,
swathed by the musty fragrance of this
Quiet erupts to the swell of organ pipes
singing an otherwise inappropriate song of hope.
Then.....he arrives in the solitude of his gait
wheeled forward to a temporary halt,
so alone but with us and the
of voice bathing the fragranced must.
Motionless he remains although we crave
a movement which now will never
come again; Forced back by the tears of
he goes onward as the light goes out and the shroud
of peace envelopes the vision; this must be the sad goodbye.
The one remaining pleasantry of bows to the dead
falls to the carers who shortly hand him back
of mere minutes; until the ash forms
in the sarcophagi of Thornhill’s care.
Yet who would really know where we have been,
for their smiles continue with the bustle of breath
and babies smile
now the hiatus breaks free again;
Noise realises its place once more and water flows now for
This is the eternal goodbye......