A Fence

Here is the last poem #5 published here for your comments and feedback. Thanks!

A Fence
by Paul Warloski

I drove past the cemetery too late
to visit Grandpa. The gate is locked now.

Grandma, now 93, takes me to mass
for Thanksgiving, and ancient cantors

lead droning decades of hail marys.
Later, great aunt Virginia, who shared

the guarded family secrets, lays
dying in a hospital bed. Then Friday mass

performed for more dying ancients
in wheelchairs, heads nodding off

in naps interrupted by whispered
and warbled singing, and a final

visit to a nursing home and another
great aunt, whose body has failed her.

On my way home
I visit Grandpa again.
But the gates are still

locked, and I stand
outside the fence,
listening for his silence.

copyright 2009 by Paul Warloski