Pink Carnations

Rest in peace

Offer up my Atheist prayers to a dignified lady,

Soothed by a lull of conversation, punctuated by a 

Sea of weak handshakes and inoffensive biscuits.

He says "Larks." 

We're here not for larksong. 


Shivering masses splattered with pink 

Carnations; abdication of a matriarch; 

I'm spilling out prayers from primary school,

A pulse of mourners ooze rosaries,

Stifled by earth 

And crowned by a spray of lilies. 

The End

2 comments about this poem Feed