Bury the Dead

Going to your father's funeral
and knowing you would be there
You, who had buried him years ago
I entered the hall like a warrior
weapon drawn: my anger at long last
greater than my fear
of ancient word like "father"
Ready to engage and win
and most of all
to get even

Approaching, you said
My own daughter
and I didn't even recognize her
Then suggesting I might look you up
you slid your business card into my hand

I held that card
all through the service
until, making my way
into the already passing afternoon
I released my grip
and let your gesture flutter
to its final resting place

Valerie Anthony
Contents | Mudlark No. 1
What It Takes | I Am Calling You from a Distance