they put you through
they put you through
the incinerator so
fast yesterday
those who were still
standing felt a gusty
sigh
between their fingers
as they reached
out to cleave to that
last goodbye
and you were
that final,
dead knot
at the end of a string
of beads, burnt,
hardened,
securing us
so that we may
never again
come so undone
.
20100313:2147
y
y 
Very intersting way of addressing this…it reminded me of when my grandmother died…and how she was the knot that bonded all the children and grandchildren into a cohesive unit…nicely said this poem.
after another good cry, it’s the only way to address this. thank you.