they moved haltingly in the quiet of the church
for to approach her spirit
drawn there by some ancient magnetism born before breath
they wore raiments freighted with grief
her body raised upon a catafalque
they held prayer books and they held them close
like travelers hold a guidebook to the past
there were flowers
every colour
only they could read the interstices of her life
like the pages of a book they had written together
they touched her casket
one by one
and withdrew their persons in sadness
then replevened their hands as if connected by some subtle lead
later she walked through the blazing sunlight
streaming through the trees like the torrents of spring
she had said her goodbyes
Flynnpoetry 