What I remember most about your funeral is being unsure of what to wear
As though you might be embarrassed by my attire
Was white okay or too non traditional?
I chose the black and felt uncomfortable

I watched our friend carry you across the grass
Looking like there wasn’t anyone else around
And I’m sure that’s what it must look like to be lost

I didn’t hear a word as they lowered your casket
And I didn’t notice like the others did when you surfaced

Later at the bar when they repeated it, again I hid my surprise

“Wasn’t it nice when the sun came out for it?”

All day it had been overcast

“It stayed through the whole thing and then fell behind the trees”

“Yeah,” I said, knowing I’d missed it.