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Sunglasses at a Funeral

by Christopher Hanson

The tears are held sequestered, just as night
disguises raw emotions, and our grief
takes shelter from the stark, perpetual light.
White knuckles clench a crumpled handkerchief
which catches falling drops of disbelief,
while prayers drone through the pungent, incensed rite.
Emotions here are shown in bas-relief —
unlike those frieze-framed martyrs, with their bright
and glorious reward, down here we pray
for humble souls, where death has neither gloss
nor mitigating hope. If Christ decreed
the darkness as he perished on his cross,
He might be called upon to dim this day,
so eyes might freely weep, and hearts might bleed.

Christopher Hanson lives in rural Australia with his wife and 6-year-old daughter. He is a keen musician and an English teacher by trade. His work has appeared in such online publications as 14 by 14, The Shit Creek Review, The Chimaera and The Loch Raven Review.

Pat Jones
Published 30 May 2011