Purification
The orange peels are drying
There are a few candles
Some glass jars are filled
With fuel and wicks
There a few poems
It's likely they won't be read
No one will hold hands
The body will be gone
Must the spirits do it themselves
Surely the person will have
Begged for forgiveness
For all their sins and mistakes
There is no common process
To give someone an entré
Into the afterlife up or down
Some tribes and the popes
Create their ceremonies
But atheists just chew crackers
And slurp homemade soup
Or from some tasteless corporation
Say a quiet prayer to whatever
The deceased did not believe
No legacy will be extoled
Lives just disappear now
More and more families break
Friends move where no one knows
Dreams are just ignored
At the end of the day
Valued things are stolen
Or sold to a bidder who
Did not know it's possessor
Bits of spirit go with each
Barry G. Wick