Recollection

She licks her finger and dampens her eye

To make people think she is crying

For all around her are tear-sorrowed faces

But she is too young to know dying

Outside the window tree branches sway down

Long, glassy fingers sweep snow-covered ground

While inside a woman is moaning softly

For loss of a son

She sees black-ribboned white roses and hears

A man with bowed head heavily sighing

Then bravely she turns her gaze back to the box

Where a broken young body is lying

Outside the crystal icicles shine bright

Casting a prism, reflecting the light

That sends rainbows dancing across the brow

Of a pastor in prayer

She touches her face to see if the mouth tears

She put on with her finger are drying

Then her young attention is drawn back outside

Where she watches a small brown bird flying

Coming to land on the icy fence rail

With such a momentum it skids on its tail

And she laughs so loud and then quickly

Claps her small hand to her mouth