Confession to a Headstone

You did not hesitate
when death arrived dressed to the nines
with roses and champagne.

You lived a celebrated life
and were the talk of the town
with a half page obituary.

Death disassembled you
and supplied your water molecules
and minerals for others.

If only it was a Marvel movie
where all the funeral attendees
saw the soft wind take up your dust.

I ordered another cocktail
to reach the drunken point
where I imagined such transpired.

I heard the chamber music.
Death and God waltzed.
It was impossible to tell one from the other.

I hesitated to tap a shoulder
and take my place
on the dance floor.

copyright © 2023 Kenneth P. Gurney

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