Black suit. Wooden box. Deep hole
Black cars. Driving rain. Tear stained
Sullen faced. Veil laced. Cigarette smoke
Rain clears windswept headstones.
Snake-like procession from church
Stood under wood; quiet; elm or birch
Missed moments already noticed
Voices silent from a subdued throng.
Glasses raised. Toasts made
Stories told some recent some old
Old tunes played and old songs sung
Memories lamented whilst laughter flung
When the sad day has passed
Life moves on without tribute
To the new turned cemetary earth
Where worms find a feast and live on.
Craig Anderson
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/your-born-you-live-and-you/
