In the ground, with nothing still,
rotting and living,
nourishing another day. For today
just isn’t ready.
In the silent mutual walk to the graveside.
In the being, the togetherness-
the sole sounds the acknowledgement
of all our footsteps slow-marching.
We carry your memories around
lighter than the casket we allowed
you to be buried in. We have to
believe in your resurrection.
But three days is a long shot.