"A blog is to a writer what a canvas is to an artist." ~ Colleen Redman

The Funeral Parlor

Parlor invokes a sense of home
and family coming together

Outside, I gathered bright red apples
bruised from their bumpy fall

But still sweet and full
with so much to offer

Was it Sleeping Beauty?
Did she eat the wrong apple?
Was she pricked with a raging illness?

Yes, she was beautiful
Kissed and un-stirring

Were we all dreaming
struck with grief arrows full
promises of pies and tomorrow?

I filled my pockets
with the damaged fruit
leaving the best ones still on the tree

Then I laid down
but I did not sleep
too full with the weight
of remembering

In November’s descent
the peaceful night stings
It’s too dark to see
all the reasons

– This was written around 1999 after the suicide of a Floyd friend. /Poets United

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