This will be a busy week.
As I paddle up Shitz’ Creek.
I hope everything will go well.
Since lately things have gone to Hell.
Paul said it’s just Another Day.
We’re almost to the month of May.
I’m running out of good ideas.
What else rhymes with “flour tortillas”?
One more poem to make the month.
However, nothing rhymes with month.
I guess I need another word.
Luckily, none of this gets heard.
It is a long way to Tipperary.
I know that this is true.
We’ve been gone two weeks,
And we’re only in Barcelona.
I’ve seen a lot of death lately.
Three family members since Christmas.
Plus assorted friends and acquaintances.
This is not helpful for the psyche.
Funerals have a guest of honor, but
The guest doesn’t ever say anything.
This is the difference between a funeral and other occasions.
At least, the guest doesn’t have to give a speech.
If you look around at a funeral,
Almost everyone in the room is crying.
Everyone knows why – sadness.
I used to think everyone was missing the guest of honor.
However, now I think rather differently.
I’m not happy about what I’m thinking now.
This is also not helpful for my psyche.
Some people don’t cry, because at some point,
Somebody told them that crying was bad.
They are suffering inside, and crying would fix this.
Some people are caught up in the moment,
Just like crying at a wedding or sports victory,
They are crying tears of peer pressure.
Some people actually miss the guest.
They assume “he’s in a better place.”
They cry tears of loss and hope.
Some didn’t bother to say “goodbye”, and
They had unfinished business with the guest.
They cry tears of loss and disappointment.
Some are named as beneficiaries, and
Never knew the guest thought of them.
They cry tears of loss and joy.
Some are named as beneficiaries, but
Not to the extent they would like.
They cry tears of bitterness and disappointment.
They don’t have time to suffer loss.
The chosen few are executors.
They will carry on with paperwork
Long after the guest is buried.
I think they cry the most of all.