in air quotes "funeral" because Annie coined it a picnic:
troughs of tin foil and the weight of
disbelief under a pavilion on loan, a small welt bloomed
on my mandible - a strawberry moon -
I didn't get up to speak because I was a young girl-poet
in cupped-cheek retreat, besides,
Bill Lauf had already sung Sleep Friend, Sleep to sundry
water-logged faces, a final pinch
from distant kin, a slow-release gift to return to the body
between summer storms, howbeit
cruel and vertiginous. Reminder: fleeing leaves footprints.
//
Publication Credit: "bug bite at a funeral" first appeared in The Orange Rose Literary Magazine Issue 1
About the Creator
Erin Latham Shea
Assistant Poetry Editor at Wishbone Words
Content Writer + Editor at The Roch Society
Instagram: @somebookishrambles
Bluesky: @elshea.bsky.social
Keep reading
More stories from Erin Latham Shea and writers in Poets and other communities.
Comments (4)
Deep poem, a feeling we all felt at funerals before. Love how you described it here.
The word choice here was just amazing. A stunning piece!
There are some things it seems we can only endure. Funerals tend to be one of those things, no matter how good it is to see family & friends again or how tasty the meal. There are those who never go to funerals because they just can't bear them, or the thought of someone catching them leaving. The stress is simply too great, no matter how important such closure may be for purposes of healing. As Vision asks in WandaVision, "What is grief but love persevering?"
Lovely poem ♦️💙♦️