Sunday, July 21, 2019

A Few

We do not honor the dead
With our rites and rituals,
Our eulogies and weeping.

Ceremonial closures
All come to an end
And there we are, unended.

All the drumming, all the poems,
All the anecdotes,
All the ululating hymns,

They end before the living,
And then more of the living
End, and they begin again.

We honor death’s survival
In the rivalry of ends.

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