03-12-2024, 06:47 AM
Where We Buried the Body
There were four of us kids;
each knowing what had to be done and why.
Dad was pious yet prudent;
a marvel of charm
who by the grace of God
made millions in real estate
and invested it well.
His colleagues called him Midas.
Mother collapsed when he died
and dementia-bent she sent
an outrageous cheque
to the very church that killed him.
And she promised more
and promised more
and promised more
until finally committing her body
too,
by our hands,
by our will,
by the lilacs
in the southwest corner
of the churchyard.
There were four of us kids;
each knowing what had to be done and why.
Dad was pious yet prudent;
a marvel of charm
who by the grace of God
made millions in real estate
and invested it well.
His colleagues called him Midas.
Mother collapsed when he died
and dementia-bent she sent
an outrageous cheque
to the very church that killed him.
And she promised more
and promised more
and promised more
until finally committing her body
too,
by our hands,
by our will,
by the lilacs
in the southwest corner
of the churchyard.
I knew that was a question left open, but I sorta liked it that way, and answering it was going to take more words than I was willing to add. One thing Leanne taught me years ago was that leaving things to the imagination is sometimes more sexy than an uninspired line or two. She was right.