Within this timeworn house

of haphazard architecture,

tilting floors & walls leaning

so corridors & large rooms

are winnowed down to small:

A funeral for one who,

in waking life, yet thrives;

while the other pair who,

beyond the dream’s confines

have truly died,

remain alive & utterly besotted

of the two young charges

fostered to their joyful care.

Kneeling,

see how she ruffles their dark hair?

wraps them in embrace,

in smiles & warm kindness?

Strange time to transfer

obligation of such import.

A funeral…

dull ebony coffin stretched

in final demarcation

of the vaguely sloping room;

symbol of thwarted Fates,

of fortunes turned…

And I –

witness to both fact & dream;

to contradiction;

Ghost-like,

I roam the altered account,

unaddressed,

unmarked,

unseen.

— C.Birde, 6/21