Dust

The greatest comedy of all
Was at her funeral-
MmaUneghe.
The old woman lived for a long, long time
In isolation
And kicked the bucket of abandonment.

They called her "witch."
She was old, unkempt, haggard and shagged
So they called her "witch."

At her funeral,
Came all sorts of guests
Invitees and dignitaries.
The real tragedy was in the
Pomp and galore in which
Mma Uneghe's passing was celebrated.

The burial was well celebrated.
A quarter of the expense
Would have given the poor woman
A happy life,
If you know what I mean.

She then transited
From dust to dust
As the pulpits often say.

She became many, many millions
Of tiny particles of dust to float.
Floating all over earth
And beyond.
Laughing at them as she did
Mocking them as they mourned.

She reached far to the stars
And back as stardusts
To settle on their birthday cakes.
All who abandoned her at old age.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

Poem

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Dom Avatar
August 2, 2016 at 11:16 AM
A vivid retelling for us to ponder the source of star dust. 7
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