A Poet’s Fancy.

I wrote this poem after a nephew’s suicide.

The end of beauty Stock Photo - 14913975

I see you there

so unlike yourself

But, that is not

what will haunt me the most

It will not be

the overpowering

perfume of the flowers

It will not be

the suit of clothes

they dressed you in

It will not be

those cold stiff hands

silently crossed

against your chest

It will not be

the funereal hymns

nor the pastor’s words

NO!

It will be

that half-smile

upon your lips

As, if

you are saying

it is better this way

Is there

any meaning…

behind that smile?

Or is it…

only a poet’s fancy?

I do not know

I only know

that it will

forever haunt me

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