She stands on velvet couch cushions
in the back of the room,
her siblings pacing before her
as our parents, relatives, speak of
fond memories,
how he used to tend the garden
and work in the basement for hours,
no one had known a better carver.
I come over to her, she’s staring
with the same big eyes and round cheeks
he used to compliment me on,
does she want to come say goodbye
before the lid is closed,
come shake hands with Nana
and give her a big hug, all of you now,
we’ll be going in for prayer soon.
She hasn’t spoken a word since they arrived,
so she shakes her head and sits
and her siblings circle me and give out hugs
knowing that I won’t cry
and make them feel awkward,
I know they didn’t know him as well
having lived farther away,
but we sang the same songs.
I pause, they are distracted from embrace,
too busy watching the adults file in,
I bring them along, we’re needed now,
we’re the few who really believe
we’re the few who will really pray.
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