Casket

The rag pulled unsympathetically against the unsanded wood.

Why bother? My own tears staining the wood before I could color it properly.

It was Great indeed:

This casket, our will, our silent prayers between deafening screams.

This one was different, albeit.

Felt different between each cut, between each strike of the hammer,

between the shifting eyes of those who caught notice of its child-like size.

The Great Mortality, they say.

Don't bother with the casket, they say.

But for you I will bother, my beloved child.

You were so much greater than all of this.

Katie Lilljedahl | 2023-04-30