Monday, 29 June 2015
You Died, We Danced
It was all we could muster. The sadness crept into our bones and stirred our feet to skipping. We each raised a stick half heartedly and banged it against the other. We turned, and shook our shoes, shaking out the gloom with the heavy chink of a thousand bells. We danced around your coffin, without a word. Without being heard. Your sister had thrown herself in and begged to be interred. They'd taken her away and had her transferred, to a mental hospital we figured you might like. We said goodbye by dancing around your old clay pipe. We dance for you in death because we never had the chance to dance with you in life.