Death, or: Life

Elegies
droned on, serious
greyscale tomes,
heavy clouds
in all the shades of sorrow,
tearful walks of words.

But inside
she remembered wings,
how they soared–
drunk with the
sheer beauty of aliveness,
joyful and carefree.

She stood up
and started dancing,
singing songs
that he loved–
uneasy, some laughed–but then
others joined the dance.

Gravity
shook itself off, de
parted, re
placed by light,
by friendship, celebration–
she could feel him smile.

Once again I’ve combined two prompts. From NaPoWriMo: write a poem in which laughter comes at what might otherwise seem an inappropriate moment . And for Tanka Tuesday where Colleen gave us a list of words to incorporate in the shadorma form.

44 thoughts on “Death, or: Life

      1. Exactly. I’ve always liked the Catholic way (ours anyway) of doing things, with a wake the night before the funeral where everyone can come and sit with the dead person, their last night with us, chatting, reminiscing, and reflecting. Then the funeral when grief pours out, followed by another gathering, almost like a party, where spirits are raised, the deed is done, and life goes on.

        Liked by 1 person

  1. Every piece of this. I love “gravity shook itself off”. Let it be known that I want a massive brass band when I go, ideally, even if it’s not in New Orleans. But no matter what, music.

    Liked by 1 person

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