The twenty-fourth prompt was to write an elegy with a hopeful outlook! Technically, I wrote elegy with Among the Stars in Her Anger, but that doesn’t really have a very… uplifting ending. This one isn’t the brightest piece I’ve written by far, but it is for the same person. It is also a lot longer in than I’d originally planned.
‘Rum For Your Funeral’
It was all that coffee and sugar,
The shouting down the hall
About the local newspaper,
What Nancy upstairs was doing,
How the garden was coming along.
It was all those things and more,
The Elvis Presley chocolate, and
Thanksgiving turkey cooked too long,
It was your tin can of a car that you
Sped along in destination to destination.
Living life loud and fast.
But I heard, quietly with fact,
Everything went so smoothly
In an unexpected way on your big day.
It was cloudless, the weather ideal,
There was even a breeze in July.
The pictures were minimal, but perfect.
No one blinked or moved too quickly.
It was all very official and practiced and small.
There was not even enough people there
Who were expected to cry or make a scene.
But they’d heard you liked purple
And all flowers were equal in your eyes,
So the directer brought you a bouquet
With sweet peas and zinnias in thanks
For that oddly absent crowd.
I heard, much later, down the line,
That only two people made it other than you.
I wasn’t even told, no invite to flash and show,
Yet of the rest of the family and friends only two
Were well behaved enough to go, but maybe
That was an wild exaggeration in memory
Of the boisterous, unruly person you always were.
I took a shot of rum in my coffee for your funeral,
And quietly agreed it was lame, your final big day.
I remembered all your laughing like thunder,
The baked bread, diet Pepsi, food your doctor
Would swear something fierce if he saw you eating.
And, I remember the arguing and slammed doors.
The last time I saw you, all dressed up to a T
In the court as you took my side, backing me
Against family, because of what family can do.
You knew, you saw, you talked when they refused.
Why not let you make some drama on your way?
They may have let you die quietly, such a shame,
But now you lay loud in your grave.
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