Saturday, 24 November 2012

Order of Service

Grief hangs here now
With the unworn tie
Bought in the hope he’d be here
The date bought forward and the appropriate food.

It stares me in the face, the four familiar blister packs left still by the bed
Usurped in the last few weeks with ‘something for the pain’
And a chair for awkward visitors
Repeating that he ‘looks peaceful’
odd that, as he never was.

It takes the place of thought
invades the writing of lists
Once filled with biscuits,
meals for two and full fat milk.

It holds me amongst the pillows, the dark
Then dreams replace It with him
Walking our veiled girl proudly toward her future.
And mine, alone.

It holds my shaking hand as he should have
As I check the cars
The flowers, the order of service
He was right to go for the cheaper suit.
‘Daft to pay big for something you’ll just wear once’

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