Blackness
Another family gathering.
The place is packed with deep blue sadness.
For the passing of yet another friend.
Faces are strained to the edge of recognition.
Pretty bouquets garnish a garish metal basket.
A holy man tries to capture the spirit of a stranger
in a couple of passages.
Failing.
Like a game of she loves me, she loves me not,
death is stealing the family flowers one by one.
Next time we gather, there'll be one less
A puddle of infinite blackness.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.