I sat among the pews
and watched them go up one by one
–the family, with tissues on their faces
like a Muslim woman’s Hijab.
They read their scripts and shed their tears,
no shame this day for public affection
for the man in the Urn.
Rob, dear husband, can you hear your wife’s cry
to Heaven–where she hopes your soul is?
Rob, dear friend, can you hear those who trusted you,
sharing their memories of boyhood innocence?
Rob, dear father, do you see your children,
confessing towards you unlike any other?
Their hopes for your witness at their wedding day;
their emptiness in knowing you left them too early?
Rob, does your heart cry?
Rob, can you see?
Are you bitter for leaving them behind,
without a chance to say good-bye?
However still, in thought of you they smile.
Marie Meyers, 2016