A time to be grateful for what was,
To say what went unsaid
And hold close those you love
That’s what a funeral is for
She’s already found peace in the
Place reserved for her
Free of every earthly hardship
An unmarked emptiness in need of signage.
Where are the big red letter signs Left Home
In the estate agents’ catalogues?
One embrace, one cooked dinner, one pair of apron strings, all to let.
One flown nest, not the same, semi-detached, open for lease.