.
The cumulus gather like life's
final friends at a funeral.
Shuffling.
Their pulsating
monochromatic prettiness
stares squarely into
what would soon enough be
their own deep bone storage unit.
Their cheap glitter jewelery
swings and chatters in the
velvet wind as
their vicious mumblings
make a 360° revolution.
I felt like laughing from the next hole over
as the dirt from the first shovel's face
fell like a hard rain on Sunday.
"Knock, knock, knock...
Is there anybody in there?"
.
Bronze trophy winner
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