Someday I will be
At the funeral of this man
And there will be a need to speak
Out loud
All the little moments
I had planned to speak about
Now here is one -
We are sitting in a garden
Gnarled and overgrown
The afternoon sun is oppressive
And makes his wine-stained teeth
Seem to glow
And he's laughing at something
His brother did
Twenty years ago
And there's a kettle boiling somewhere
But no-one wants to go
I should write this down
So I don't forget
It says so much about him
But I don't remember what
#NaPoWriMo 2013 poem number 6
© Brendan Bonsack
April 2013