Sonnet Xv
Wakes are supposed to be a tradition where friends and family pay their respects to the
deceased. On this point, I do not disagree. However, I find certain aspects of this custom
unnecessary and unnerving.
Just the atmosphere alone is depressing: The unnatural smell of flowers that ordinarily in
nature have their own unique, pleasing fragrances are now combined in a cold parlor
emanating a macabre odor. Again, this is tolerable. What I object to is the eulogist using
this sad occasion to further the grief of the mourners that are already on overload. This
I think is unnecessary, to say the least, and serves no humane purpose. I consider this an
infringement as in the case of the priest in the following poem.
The casket sits alone amid the blooms.
The mingled scents emit abnormal stench.
A sickly perfume permeates the room.
A somber, crying queue awaits; all drenched
In tears. A priest is standing tall beside
The bier. He motions us to be seated.
The eulogy commences. Quiet cries
Commingled words of praise repeated,
Unduly interrupted further speech.
Alas! His deed is done. He overwhelms
Us. Grief imbues our thoughts. It seemed to reach
My inner sanctum; He trespassed this realm
This morn. Unhallowed ground I do believe.
I stood a moment, turned, and took my leave.
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