As I sat in the pew,
while they prayed for your soul.
To be delivered from evil.
I knew not my lines in this life.
I looked at your body, covered in a shroud
of fine wool tailoring, a matching silk tie.
Powdered skin, blushed cheeks.
Unlike you in real life, to me frightening, surreal.
Cold to the touch, a dreaded kiss on an icy cheek.
An obligation, we must say goodbye.
We shall dance round the pyre ...
It’s just a flashback
Red Wolf Journal Spring 2014, and a fresh start
2 years ago