Funeral By Sanjana Mahesh

Funeral

By Sanjana Mahesh

An old great uncle being burnt atop

a pile of wood, I was told stay inside

Never seen somebody unable to

move, laugh, live, just get up and walk around

a funeral is simply a good bye

or more like see you eventually

Since when was my family so quiet

Nobody was yelling or bustling

I was watching behind a window but

The crowd that surrounded him was too large

I couldn’t decide whether I should try

harder to watch or leave and let it be

Prying myself of the tall window bars

I set out in search for sorrowful ladies

Separately from the crowd outside I

Found them huddled inside reminiscing

The wife tearful yet a faint smile from the

Memories  amounted over the years

Together for forty six years till then

Why could they just still not stay together?

I didn’t understand then and I don’t now

Perhaps it was even simpler to see

As a six year old because age blinds you

I felt more susceptible to emotion

Back then when people showed you their real truth

All the women laughed in bittersweet tones

Love reunites everyone finally

Age makes you understand I realize now

Before I thought death’s sad oblivion

It’s simply a journey, one we must take

Men at My Father’s Funeral

BY WILLIAM MATTHEWS

The ones his age who shook my hand   

on their way out sent fear along   

my arm like heroin. These weren’t   

men mute about their feelings,

or what’s a body language for?

And I, the glib one, who’d stood

with my back to my father’s body

and praised the heart that attacked him?   

I’d made my stab at elegy,

the flesh made word: the very spit

in my mouth was sour with ruth

and eloquence. What could be worse?   

Silence, the anthem of my father’s   

new country. And thus this babble,   

like a dial tone, from our bodies.