Not a single mourner in the mist
No priest to say “And now we pray”
Just a casket
a freshly dug hole
two gravediggers and a crow
Cold enough to see your breath
But warm enough to dodge the mausoleum
No one in attendance
No one to toss that first handful of dirt
signifying the end of earthly ties to the living
I imagine a nattily attired corpse
still able to hear
Weeping at the silence
Embarrassed and dismayed at the poor showing
The muffled mummers
of the two unknown grave diggers
the very last voices he hears
a faint and fading
“Rest in Peace, Bro” followed by
“Do you want to grab a coffee at Dunkin?”
As a smile comes over his face
bendingtheneedle 