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camden_m_jonesPoems
A funeral came by the coffee shop today. Draped in sable and charcoal their faces angular and lower than usual – pinched against cemetery winds. From my seat in the corner I watch. The children sit on parental laps fighting hugs hugged too tight and smearing blueberry scones against their tiny faces, happy in their moment. The adults array round the long table, talk in soft whips: "Did you see -----‘s dress? Ugh, so ugly." Their voices carry through the business, scathing and sharp, angry in their moment. An older gentleman leans his cane against his knee, palsy mug pressed against the tabletop, and stares. Stares. Stares at three generations, stares alone in his moment.
0
Apr 5, 2020
Apr 5, 2020 at 1:42 AM UTC
A funeral came by the coffee shop
A funeral came by the coffee shop today. Draped in sable and charcoal their faces angular and lower than usual – pinched against cemetery winds. From my seat in the corner I watch. The children sit on parental laps fighting hugs hugged too tight and smearing blueberry scones against their tiny faces, happy in their moment. The adults array round the long table, talk in soft whips: "Did you see -----‘s dress? Ugh, so ugly." Their voices carry through the business, scathing and sharp, angry in their moment. An older gentleman leans his cane against his knee, palsy mug pressed against the tabletop, and stares. Stares. Stares at three generations, stares alone in his moment.
Written by
camden_m_jones
23/M/Oregon
Apr 5, 2020
Apr 5, 2020 at 1:42 AM UTC
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