Bright red dahlias

Adorn your marble tombstone,

Making mockery

 

Of our black mourning

Clothes, the early autumn breeze

Turning tears to ash.

 

The preachers words rang

Through the old family graves.

Grandpa waited for

 

Her to come as dust

Inched over the ridges of

A date six years old.

 

Red petals scatter

As the box is lowered in

The unforgiving

 

Dirt. Our last chance to

Say goodbye to something soon

Lost to endless time.