Half way through my funeral

Half way through my funeral
the doorbell rang
– the wrong door

Half way through my funeral
the choir sang
– the wrong song

Half way through my funeral
the church bells rang
their tower swayed

Half way through my funeral
the angels sang
our preacher strayed

Half way through my funeral
the walls crumbled
I turned around

Half way through my funeral
you removed the lid
without a sound

Half way through my funeral
I left
through the right door

Half way through my funeral
You stayed
You wanted more

Day 15 of #NaPoWriMo, we were invited to write a poem that reflects on the nature of being in the middle of something. So I’m on prompt – but I’m off illustration. I had planned to use only my own work this year, but this poem called for Hieronymus Bosch. At the least the photograph is my own. That counts for something, right? 😉

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9 thoughts on “Half way through my funeral

      1. Oloriel

        I must say I am really really blown away, with the concept, the rhyme, the meaning, the possibility. I shared the poem everywhere, hope u dont mind!

      1. Angela van Son Post author

        Yes. definitely. Publications often show brighter colours, and it easier to look at detail. But the scale, and to see them together, and to see them as 3D things… just wow!

  1. Pingback: Titled | Unassorted stories

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