Go on, go on, go on.

For Weeks After the Funeral

The house felt like the opera,
the audience in their seats, hushed, ready,
but the cast not yet arrived.

And if I said anything
to try to appease the anxious air, my words
would hang alone like the single chandelier

waiting to dim the auditorium, but still
too huge, too prominent, too bright, its light
announcing only itself, bringing more

emptiness into the emptiness.

Poem Copyright © 2006 by Andrea Hollander Budy. Photo credit: Art Shay. Presentation of picture and poem is believed to be fair use.

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