A Thousand Miles from Kansas

The metal handle of the box
holding your once warm body
is cold as I carry it to the 
fresh and permanent
resting place six feet deep. 

Someone I’ve never met
thanks me for bringing you
and guides the box above
the opening to rest on straps
to lower you to an Earthly rest. 

Amongst familiar strange faces– 
displaced– slightly disconnected.
It’s been awhile– good to see you 
again– how long has it been–
remember the time…

Reverently, I back away to become
one of the faces saying final
goodbyes–  realizing I sadly
said mine more than a decade
ago at a similar gathering. 

© 2024 Gregory Vessar. A Thousand Miles from Kansas. All Rights Reserved.