Too Late For That

Poor dead thing. A mole some said. Ugly for sure. A vole others agreed. The only thing we agreed on was that it was dead. Poor dead whatever. No funeral. No service. No words. Just a hole dug in the earth And a decaying body. I wondered as I was digging What else I would discover. Hoping if I did it would not be human. I have no idea what I would do about that. A vole someone argued. I rolled my eyes. What did it matter? It is not like we were going to be singing a song. Or saying a prayer. Or giving it last rites. Too late for that. I ignored them all and kept digging. Hoping to find nothing….