Funeral

This work is now published on Issue 103, Burningwood Literary Journal https://www.magcloud.com/browse/issue/2281580

Bloodied chrysanthemums envelop

The blurred lines of the paint-strewn floor

Casting shadows in the midst

Of broken light, fragmented scenes 

Memories unended, just started

The gleaming red exit sign

In the back

Hurts my eyes; I was told

That the church was a safe place

Somehow, it makes me feel

Empty.

Conjoined benches 

Of wispy outlines, ghosts whose 

Hourglasses broke too early

Used to hold gold, left dust
In their goodbyes

Silence pursues

Every so often disrupted 

By whispers of white lies 

That reflect off the silk-covered altar 

Losing their voice 

To the slightest breath of wind

I once saw a garden outside the bounds 

Of these wood-shaven walls

Ruby-dipped roses

Once I turned my head

They were gone

Maybe I hold on to things 

That aren't meant for me

Reviews

[Hannah's Writing]

It is now published at Issue 103 on 7/31/2022, https://www.magcloud.com/browse/issue/2281580

[kamiya]

This is very beautiful. Wording is lovely

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

in moments of loss we tap into the deepest reservoir of creativity to produce such moving and empathetic defining art. This was such a heart touching poem. That speaks to everyone who has suffered loss. Thank you for sharing your art with us.

[Hannah's Writing]

This poem was written in memory of my grandma who passed away in the end of 2020.