The Coffin, Paper
Closed with a likeness on top,
I buried my father
under an herb that needed fertilizer
deep enough to do some good. Food. Food.
No military taps, no songs, no scripture.
God knew everything
she needed to know about that man.
The herb’s been healthy, vivid green
since.
3 thoughts on "The Coffin, Paper"
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I love this: “God knew everything / she needed to know about this man”
Love the Divine Feminine
The first two lines yank hard at me.
Strong memory, done so well.