For The Rain, From the Grave

They carried me with the caution of a newborn:
Stern shoulders to careful to droop and grieve.
What the bearers of my casket concealed, their
Faces could not. Sunken eyes, ringed by
Fractured nights of sleep, levelled at the hole.

It rained that day; Children’s feet scampering
Across a floorboard. The patter of droplets upon my lid.
A gentle percussion tapping upon that which
Assured the finality of my life.
It was then that I felt the empty end of death
Not in my passing, not in their heaving breaths
Of mourning, but in the knowledge from this
Day on, when clouds open and shower below
I shall never feel it’s decent upon my body.

When finally I was lowered held for an eternity
From reluctant hands and lingering hears
It was not the thudding of soil I feared
It was the fading of the rain.