We never want to lose,
Yet we never go without it.
Losing ones we love, to death,
The inescapable sunset.
And through our tears of mourning grief,
In black suits and shoes and dresses,
We sometimes say, for them, “relief”,
But for many, “so unexpected”.
A funeral bell, a sad wishing-well,
From friends and supporters.
Warm hands and hugs,
In cold church basements,
We feast on cheeses,
Until our turn to soil,
And death’s unknown, releases.