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