A Quiet Man

 

She sat among strangers, discarded pamphlets strewn everywhere.
A face smiling up at her from a photo on a chair.
Handsome and young, she could not leave him abandoned.
Picking them up she clutched them to her chest,
quickly walking away to join up with the rest.

 

As his friend of many years had sat waiting a few days before,
his love, his wife would not answer his call.
Children left unaware that soon he would no longer be there,
as his friend sat waiting outside on a chair.

 

Recalling her sorrow that he had died all alone,
handkerchief to her eyes as she sits on her own.
For this quiet man.. her friend of many years,
she struggled to stifle her sobs and her tears.

 

Few words were uttered and words of mourning muttered.
She had wanted to stand and regale with tales of his life,
but could not, would not usurp his children and wife.

So..little was said of his life on that day,
before the mourners moved slowly away.

 

A room filled with laughter would not be his way,
he would not have requested bright colours to celebrate his life.

 

Just a quiet sobriety, and the tears of his friend, his children and wife.

 

© 2018 Taylor Crowshaw