They Didn’t See Him Leave Poem by Alan Dunne

He slipped away in secrecy:
no tears fell
over the shaded grave,
tucked away in a corner
where moss grows thick on stone.
No token whimper
or arm-around-shoulder affection.

Taking nothing with him
but receives
his own six-foot of land,
clean black shoes replace old
black bags.
He has left the frozen doorway
and rests on a bed of clay.

And they will not see him
and wave and smile as
they go – just like before.
He leaves to the sway
of the willow
in a corner tucked away.