The flowers are placed just so.

A bit displaced, too, so much white and yellow
and green and palest pink in this sea of black.

He looks good.

They keep saying it. As if he’s still in there, and
will hear them, and smile, or wink or half wave.

He looks good. 

He looks good. He looks good. To the beat of the
clock on the wall, gray face tsk-tocking away.

He looks good.

There’s a fly on the windowsill that doesn’t, fin
-ally surrendered to the heat, feet still, skyward.


These damn flowers are going to go, too, with
-er to microscopic nothing, what is it they say?

Ashes to ashes. Dust.

The lights are too bright, and the curtains are too
right and her heart aches for things already gone.

The flowers are placed, just so
she can mourn them, and move on.


This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Arrangements

  1. Wow, De. Such rhythm in the beat of the words here today. Lots said that is not said just in the tension of it, very good. 🙂

Use your words.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.