The Funeral... Poem by Eric Cockrell

i went to the funeral,
and listened for the bells.
the church was empty,
no cars in the parking lot.
the hand on the door,
seemed familiar, but not.
the voice in the casket,
both grey, and cold.
the mind packed boxes,
fingers buttoned and unbuttoned.
the candle fell from the table,
unlit and unnoticed.
even god was distant,
and the tide failed to come in....
the man stood up and walked out,
never to return!