Heaven Is the Prize Right

Memories smiled from the back of my throat Making me laugh during the funeral Heads swiveled. Looks were given. I was not in the front; much to my sister’s annoyance. She glares. I wiggle a finger. Could not help it. Singing along with Mitch on Sunday nights. Making donuts, Daddy is frying. Mommy is in best mood of the week, Sunday. Church long forgotten. Skating in the basement, finding baby foxes. Wearing painful pink curlers. Slathered with Vicks. I am smelling pumpkin pies now. Life is coming back in waves; things long gone. Memories caused me to burst out laughing. Mean looks now. I smile at them. They do not understand; death is the beginning. Heaven is the prize, right?