There Was No Funeral by Ash Bowen

because death doesn’t stagger, it walks
on arched toes, hangs sheets
over mirrors,

because soon the house will fill with no one
who saw you lift your skirt, wade
into ether,

because I will undress the bed, thread
by thread,

because I still have business
in this world.

            Shirl Brunell (1934—2006)

From: http://diodepoetry.com/v2n2/content/bowen_a.html

Date: 2009

By: Ash Bowen (19??- )