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

2 comments

  1. slpmartin

    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.

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