Sunday, May 17, 2009


long black rollers
crashing against the barren shoreline
the parade of the dead passes by 
mourners shrouded within their own misery
they carry the heavy burden left by the deceased
bells ring above the modern churchyard
not so long ago something much different would have occurred
the missionary priest greets the tragic party
behind they drag the wooden coffin
house of the dead
for there his spirit will reside forever in the arms of god
the sun breaks through the morning fog and climbs
to its mid-day resting place above the evergreen mountains
gladly heavens rays shine down from above onto the sinners
the throng presses itself into the minute wooden church
built to hold fifty at capacity
but the fire marshall is not here to observe and demand
children talk loudly in their high-pitched voices 
many do not realize the gravity of the events before them
the choir begins to sing 
as many force themselves into the little worn building
a man attempts to open the windows
but stops when he realizes they have been painted shut
the spirit house
the mourners pass on their sadness through the ceremony
gently they lower him into the ground
his final resting place

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