Basic Black

Basic black, they chatter like
fiancees choosing flatware,
obits their compulsion, 
scanning through the
fineprint for fatalities today. 
"Albert Johnson, such
a young one, taken by his

Maker, leaving children,
such a shame!" A hunger for
the details drives these gannets
to their prey. They're not too far
behind, and that's the reason
for their passion,
death and taxes, final call.

Professional, they'll travel
thirty miles to pay respects,
their only consolation
now that Frank and Jim are gone.
Memories are treasures
they will contemplate while waiting,
in resignation, ready for their turn.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2012

Poem

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Wesley Avatar
June 15, 2012 at 3:08 PM
We too wait our turn for the inevitable. I had to read this carefully to find where it was taking me. An awesome story is here and I was able to get it. A gifted write with an intense message. Luv, Lizzie
Collins Avatar
May 10, 2012 at 8:17 AM
Whoaaa. This is stunning! Kathy
Bauer Avatar
May 8, 2012 at 3:53 PM
very well-written and perceptive! nice one!
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