No one Turned Up to the Funeral

by Oran Bailey

Image by Ronan Park

There were no attendants at the funeral,

no pallbearers to shoulder the great weight,

no tattered pennants raised in shaky wind

or cold comforts in the rain.

The death knell does not toll;

it has already been lowered into the burial vault.

Graves litter the waterlogged earth.

The people are all gone.

Scattered flowers driftwood,

voyages splintered for good.

The tides spread like a stain

but it's too late to clean.

No-one turned up to the funeral.