Your arm felt like wood.
Lying there in your coffin,
I thought someone had stolen your bones
and put pipes in their place,
like they talk about doing —
you would have laughed at that.
The brown-green paint on your face,
and the goofy smile they gave you —
They do that for the family,
You did look bemused,
Like how the hell did this happen?
So it’s come down to this.
Me here looking down,
And you lying there with your goofy smile
And your pipe bones.
Morning “wake up” call. Is anyone listening?
Probably not. “Silence is the language of god,
all else is poor translation.” –Rumi