A poem I wrote in the car on the way home from my grandpa's funeral.
A dark night.
The comforting blanket of dusk has fallen.
The shroud makes everything silent.
I walk the narrow hall.
A beautiful day.
Blue skies, warm temperatures, a gentle breeze.
We all line up.
The cars march along the streets.
A sudden stop.
Family members emerge.
We greet each other with quick smiles, a nod.
We are here to give respect.
A peaceful shade.
The bed is prepared.
Windows that once showed life and joy closed.
Friends standing all around.
An appropriate time.
Our chance to say goodbye.
Rest in peace, Grandpa.
To a great man, an even better friend. Farewell.