Pencil Stubs Online
Reader Recommends


 

Dry Country Funeral

By John I. Blair

No bell rang
In the stubbed steeple,
No colored glass
Glorified the sun.

No carved saints
Or stations of the Cross
Softened the cracked walls
Nor cushions the pews.

No choir sang. Just
Loud hymns rasped
From husky throats
Of family and friends.

No cloud, no rain
Eased the dusty grass
Or quick rush of tears
The loss.

©2005 John I. Blair  

Refer a friend to this Poem

Your Name -
Your Email -
Friend's Name - 
Friends Email - 

 

Reader Comments

Post YOUR Comments!
Name:
Email:
Comments:

Please enter the code in the image above into the box
below. It is Case-Sensitive. Blue is lowercase, Black
is uppercase, and red is numeric.
Code:

Horizontal Navigator

 

HOME

To report problems with this page, email Webmaster

Copyright © 2002 AMEA Publications