In The Poetry

Here we have a sad poem that records the time I went to my Grandma’s funeral.

Until Gran Died

The minnows I caught
lived for a few days in a jar
then floated side-up on the surface.
We buried them beneath the hedge.
I didn’t cry,
but felt sad inside.

I thought
I could deal with funerals
that is
until Gran died.

The goldfish I kept in a bowl
passed away with old age.
Mum wrapped him in a newspaper
and we buried him next to a rose bush.
I didn’t cry,
but felt sad inside.

I thought
I could deal with funerals
that is
until Gran died.

My cat lay stiff in a shoebox
after being hit by a car.
Dad dug a hole and we buried her
under the apple tree.
I didn’t cry,
but felt very sad inside.

I thought
I could deal with funerals
that is
until Gran died.

And when she died
I went to the funeral
with relations dressed in black.
They cried, and so did I.
Salty tears ran down my face.
Oh, how I cried.

Yes, I thought
I could deal with funerals
that is
until Gran died.

She was buried in a graveyard
and even the sky wept that day.
Rain fell and fell and fell
and thunder sobbed far away across the town.
I cried
and I cried.

I thought
I could deal with funerals
that is
until Gran died.

Related poems:

1. The Conjuror
2. Old Tongue
3. A Tunnel
4. The Poet
5. The Chimney Boy’s Story