My dad died today
a solemn Wednesday. In May.
Dozens, long unseen
converged that day
to pray and to comfort
the soon bereaved.
Proud he was,
pulled his last breath only
when we left the room
In privacy.

But I had been there
to observe the ritual
of his passing.
Strange odors, unnatural heat.
His yellowed eyes
a distraction from
his laboured breathing
and shame of wilting
away.

………………………..

Buried my dad today.
Small funeral. Big change
He lay stiff, in brown suit,
Cold, handsome
And dead.
Fatherly smirk,
plain as Day, hinted
a last smile and
blissful nothingness.

Catholic priest,
paid to speak eloquently
Pretended on pulpit
they were aquaintances.
Untouched by the sadness
that stilled my siblings
I fidgeted. My brain
strained to process
His absence.