Overhead in shades of pristine blue,
Just as you would have it
For your final glimpse of life.
Balloons of every colour
Rise toward infinity,
Saluting you, my hero.
You would have me celebrating
With their dancing skyward strings,
With the forced smiles of the
Grieving guests, and
The bright colours of the
Effulgent dresses
you demanded of us.
But I mourn the loss of
Black limousines, lugubrious
in their somber cortege.
Of grey clouds and dark umbrellas,
Of caliginous funerary regalia
and morose expressions,
As surely as I mourn the loss,
My loss
Of you.
Try
though you might,
You will not summon
a smile to my face
with forced Nostalgia that
I cannot bear to remember.
By Emma Dower.
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