It has been fun, <br />she says at last. <br />Pure shock spreads <br />quickly 'cross her face, <br />from ear to ear. <br /> <br />Yes, fifty years it's been <br />and time enough <br />for shreds of hatred <br />to mature <br />into indifference. <br /> <br />And now she finds herself <br />at the well-rusted iron portal <br />of her familiar God's Green Acres <br />to say one last farewell, <br />with just one whisper <br />of a fleeting thought <br />'bygone it be.' <br /> <br />When unknown arms <br />of roughness <br />turn her away. <br /> <br />And from the depth of <br />one new grave <br />a melody is heard. <br />It is the taunting sound of <br />scornful laughter.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mother-s-funeral/
