I would have commented
but as I have just returned
from a cremation
my eyes are still wet.

The man was blessed
But now his woman is dead…
But grief can't be over come
in a day or two,
life will take its toll
so will time too

then after a week or so
the sun will return hopefully
with forebodings anew
to restore the wisdom
of the two who lived
as they were together
more than seldom

Detritus by RW

rippled feather bracelet
around a skeletal wrist
a hope missed
the gist
pissed

details going under
resound for another fist
a cultist
the list
missed

fighting five-front wartime
concerned for lecherous twist
to the midst
resist
blissed

calling father god-thing
reserved in entitled tryst
but never kissed
royal cyst
grist

never ending notice
to this claxon please persist
do not enlist
say what you
mean

I shuffle through the autumn world
with uneven gait on ruined knee,
acorns falling, nearly hurled
by acrobatic squirrels at me.

Almost as if I welcome pain
returning here to hunt each fall
yet suffering is worth the gain
although the margin's growing small.

You see, I say that I come here
each year when cool winds stain the leaves
to hunt elusive whitetail deer.
But my prey is really memories.

I was minding my own business
happily driving along
joining with the radio
in a Slim Whitman song

when clear out of the blue
a white light appeared
and before I knew just what was what
everything went really weird

I found myself staring at our blue-green globe
through a large semicircular window
and surrounding me were very strange creatures
strumming guitars (I wish I'd took a photo)