We held our mother’s funeral today
out back in the warm Spring rain.
It was supposed to be tomorrow but
Mother thought the forecasted sun
and flowers, a bright finish to
this dreary Winter,
Would **** the mood.
So to speak.

The earth was soft but the willow
tree roots fought back our shovels.
Mother sighed but said the small,
paltry hole filled with muddy water
would do for her ceremony.
But just the ceremony.

She sat in back,
the tail end of her own procession,
and intently ignored our furtive glances
to see if she was pleased.
She was.
Until the rain stopped, then
she called the dampness ‘silly’,
and left.

But  we’d already had the guests on
notice, with bereavements ready since
Mother can be quite fickle
and at times unruly so
we held our mother’s funeral today
her tears and ours the warm Spring rain.