there should be laughter,

a joke or two whispered from

behind cupped hands,

~

old photographs thumbed

some winsome, shared

‘remember whens’,

~

a celebrant’s appointed

who has no clue of you or

the music you selected,

~

there’ll be a spread

of flaccid paid-for grub,

that few want to eat,

~

all too soon, apologies

taxis, uneasy hugs and

‘have you got far to goes’,

~

an exodus, deep breaths

‘thank god it’s overs’

promises to keep in touch,

~

it’s only then we realize

from within our grey daze

the sun came out for you

 

© Graham R Sherwood 04/25