The Orders of the Ordinary
Death seemed no more
than inconvenience—the pallbearers
and mourning proved dress rehearsals
for some afterlife that never came C.O.D.
Plumped-up trees removed themselves
from consideration, unwilling—
no, unable—to suffer the dignity.
A few sooty birds perched
in the upper branches, not like angels—
perched out of carelessness, boredom.
By the same author
Logan | Steidle
The brief, impersonal, conversations they had together were creating that peculiar intimacy which consists in shyness.