The "Do You Have Lots of Faults Too?" Issue



A Ritual for the Dead

When I'm sad, I collect my tears
in a jar.
The lid fastened tight to
keep grief in.

The diamond on my left hand,
a symbol of true love. . . our
friends gathering at the church,
at our home.
Death has made its connection
to the present.
I wear my widows weeds well. . . earrings
with your hair in them so I can hear you. . .
a locket made of bezel and crystal with a paper skeleton inside,
symbolizing your bones.

The mourners arrive wearing their blue medals
for the occasion. Sacredness has surrounded me and
as I hold on to my prayer book, I point to the sky.
"There is red in heaven."*
I will pick up a red apple from the tree and eat.


*From Death Lamented, Boston Historical Museum