February 28th (Two Years Have Past)

Eyes sink-
The powder blue coffin ascends-
They snuck a beer into the tomb-
Not his kind, though.
We all wore orange-
It was perfect.

Twenty-One Ravens
Three Hawks.
A lot of Pigeons.
Three Geese.
There has got to be meaning-

Defeat will not prevail-
We are a strong lot, despite it all.

It still feels wrong-
It still feels hollow-
Hollowness cannot be interpreted-
Like blindness- 
Another tragedy you knew all too well.

So many regrets in this ordeal
But it’s all over now, so they say.
I doubt it’ll ever be over-
At least for those who care.

But you are the star-keeper-
Realities are bittersweet and self-contained-
Just how I like them.
But in times like this I need escapism-
Like the ghosts of the silver-screen we so often spoke of.

Stiff upper-lip and all this sorrow.
Don’t worry-
We’ll take care of her.
That’s what families do.