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francie-lynchPoems
I've been at hundreds of funerals Standing beside Fathers Soon to be posted to Peru Or to missions for black African babies. They'd sprinkle caskets like Spring rains, Burn incense to smudge the dead With rising smoke signals. Sounding the advance. I witnessed pain in the front pews, The kneelers with thin cushioning. I prayed fervently for a whosh of wind To sweep behind me, Billow my soutane,   And lift the lid; Prayed for the candle flame to flare, For the body to rise As Rathgar did. He was a faker. Not like what I saw. Up close. On Friday mornings.
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Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 10:42 AM UTC
Viking Grave
I've been at hundreds of funerals Standing beside Fathers Soon to be posted to Peru Or to missions for black African babies. They'd sprinkle caskets like Spring rains, Burn incense to smudge the dead With rising smoke signals. Sounding the advance. I witnessed pain in the front pews, The kneelers with thin cushioning. I prayed fervently for a whosh of wind To sweep behind me, Billow my soutane,   And lift the lid; Prayed for the candle flame to flare, For the body to rise As Rathgar did. He was a faker. Not like what I saw. Up close. On Friday mornings.
Rathgar Lothbrok: See final episode of this season's "Vikings."
#ashes#death#funeral#paganism#atheism#vikings#christiantiy
francie-lynch
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francie-lynch
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 10:42 AM UTC
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