FUNERAL

At the funeral audit it seems the people present
Have aged a lot and fast. It’s been two years.
Can that be why the backs are a bit more bent,
The lines deeper, steps less steady, tears

More ready, osteoporotic humps
A trifle more defined, facial muscles
More relaxed and sagging? Cousins clump
Together. Formal suits and dresses rustle.

Is it the sadness of loss that weights the air,
Or is it contemplation of the end,
The time of passage from here to where? Nowhere
Or everywhere? A time when living blends

With dying? However tight and faithfully wound,
Our clock-machines are slowly running down.

(49, August 30, 1992)

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