A memorial service before death by Adheena S Farhan
A memorial service before death
Adheena S Farhan
a house/ before it’s a funeral home/ is a pitstop for God.
a hot midafternoon always seems to linger/ past welcome.
I live in that part of the world/ where memorial services are never held.
Instead, we pool around the dead/ and become a tempest clawing at the dusk,
While they wait, in the white docks, ready to go/ Or not/ I don’t know.
A grandparent, his life unravelling into the season of exit/Is mostly the first encounter of death/ for most people with good, orderly lives.
Cancer had tugged at his long-lived skin, it had cut the back stitch…
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