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At a funeral

What am I doing here? No, don't laugh,

Although I wouldn't blame you if you did.

Ninety minutes on, I'm none the wiser

And all the endless verbiage could not rid

The doubts which bubble up and make me dread

The platitudes, the clichés and the Kant

Washing around this refuge for the dead

Where those who long ago abandoned thought

Of faith, of hope, of spiritual insight

Fall back into the stark familiar forms

Ignoring the beliefs which lead to life.

            You deserve much more and this limp praise

            Insults your memory and your loving ways.

Brian Hick May 2013

©copyright Sally Hick 14.5.25