by Cassandre Smith

Hands crossed, limp and pallid, upon the chest
Eyes sealed with ease in eternal slumber
Lifted from this earth, ascending, swathed in light
Soul entwining with his beloved, common ground
Taken too soon

Family assembles, growing tense, anticipating her presence
Hillbilly folk songs resonate, saturate the air – thick to the senses
Observed from above – a crudely contrived circus
Stumbling through the awkward setting, billowing breezes puff up their unsightly attire
Respect and honor lacking

She does not emerge – she does not quench the eagerness of the indignant attendees
Revenge is seething, accumulating, bulging from the orifices
Photographs, memories of her – thrown away with haste, erasing the hurt, smudging the regret
Repressing the acidic hate
It will not dissolve so easily

A day devoted to surrendering, to cherishing, for remembering
Destroyed by a bomb of selfish, twisted manipulation
Washed away by childish antics
Altered venue, serene atmosphere, recognition and appreciation are due
Rest in peace

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