over time

first

you will be dumbfounded

your heart will plummet

into the depths of your stomach

as the whole world before you

tumbles

as if the entire universe

was shoved into a dryer

spinning

steady yourself

on someone’s shoulder

first

 

then

when strangers

you haven’t seen

since you were a newborn

all cluster together,

solemnly murmuring

donning dark colors

touching the glossy wood

of the coffin

the magnitude of death

will feel heavy

you will

need to sit

and your aunt

will comfort you

then

 

later

when you call her up

because you start to forget her voice-

but the line has been disconnected

when her seat at the table for the holidays

is vacant

year after year

when her sister

has become an only child

when you get older

and she doesn’t-

the passing of time just means

that she’s been gone longer

you will understand

the finality of death

later

© 2017 Vic Romero – Creative Writing Fall 2017