Knock on Pine: A Poem by Andrew Bambrick

0
188

This poem is dedicated to my vanished village and its forgotten customs: the unbreakable bond.

Knock on Pine

Somber men wearing black
Armbands sit up front.

Women in black
Sniffle, swallow sobs
Then tears.

The sermon
Dollops of memories and hope.

A rose window
Shaft of light
Warms the pine box.

Friends pass by
And knock on the box.

Silently saying,
Wake up.
Remember us left behind.

LEAVE A REPLY

Please enter your comment!
Please enter your name here

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