Memorial Day

For twenty minutes i held his dead cold hand
in mine and whispered to his corpse all the truth
that we had spoken smiling scant hours before
in hopes the ferryman might take that coin

With one last kiss upon his now-unfurrowed brow
I stepped away to prepare flowers for his funeral mass
I stepped away to sing his anthem and his dirge
in hopes the ferryman might take that coin

Before the altar in charcoal tones, i spoke his story
to those still breathing who loved him best with tears
and laughter cradled in a creaking cracking voice
in hopes the ferryman might take that coin

On my back I carried his oak casket with joyful ease
set down his hallowed prow - pushed him off toward peace
then watched the boat bear him to velvet forgetfulness
with the darling ferryman's hand upon his shoulder.