Challenging Poetry

when it's time for the pain

it's too easy to slip
past the funeral on a wave
of obligation, shaking hands
and accepting arms tight around
and words that don't know quite
where to start or how to end
surfing waves of condolence
mixed with a heady aroma of too many
flowers, everything designed
to forget how to think
until two weeks later, when waking
from a deep sleep, the emptiness
gapes wide and sucks down
into an abyss of pain as the floating ends
and all that's left is . . .
why?

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