Osôshiki (1984)

People at a funeral

Good bye Bob,
Seventy two sounds a 
Fairly Good age,
Unless you  happen to be
a late Seventy one.

Uniformly suited black,
Brought out from the wardrobe again,
Tight they seem, or too loose on the frail
Shoes shine in October sun,
As they Form the entrance guard

The guard
With grey  thinning hairs
Of those with whom
For many years,
Once he served

Those with sticks
And those in chairs
Swing that old lamp
Of memories shared
And laughs recalled

Trembling voices
Once so young,
Now sing hymns with
Stuttering style
And wavering tones.

The priest steps up,
He has done this 
Thousands of times
He shakes the hands
Of those that mourn

Yet he knows,
He will be doing it 
Again
In just
Thirty minutes time

Goodbye Bob
Firefighter,
Swimmer, cyclist
Grand papa
And family man

The drinks are drunk now
The sandwiches are curled
The last guests leave
As They clear the plates,
And only now will memories remain.