Façade by Sy Roth

Facade
original photography with permission by Robert Sundheimer


 


The curly swath of color

Draped my bier
Festooned it in saffron Christo color.

Despite being only a minute,
A jot of a being,
They pretended my importance,
They regaled me
With their extemporaneous exhalations.

Soft breezes of the mourners
Shuffled the diaphanous cloth
Until it spoke
In whispers
Telling of nothing
Just the air resplendent with whispers
Lost in the shadow of false fronts,
Facades.

It all looked so substantial once
Ripe in the gloaming
Festooned in garlands of honey flowers
Rich with promise.

But they unfurled.
The winds grabbed them and they finally sagged
Droopy, empty bags that once fed
But remain, now wilted
Like three-day-old, waterless roses.

In the background, there is promise–
If only they knew
Before life on the bier
Bore them on a song of smoke-throated sorrows
A Billie Holiday threnody,
A sad, soft lilting song
In a smoky cafe
Adrift at sea after brief tomorrows.

And the bier brings it all to a close.

©2020 Sy Roth

 

Follow Sy:

Sy Roth a retired school administrator and has finally found the sounds of silence and the time to think whole thoughts. This has led him to find words and the ability to shape them.  He has published in Visceral Uterus, Amulet, BlogNostics, Every Day Poets, Barefoot Review, Haggard and Halloo, Misfits Miscellany, Mad Swirl, Larks Fiction Magazine, Danse Macabre, Bitchin’ Kitch, Bong is Bard, Humber Pie, Poetry Super Highway, Penwood Review, Masque Publications, Foliate Oak, Miller’s Pond Poetry and The Eloquent Atheist.

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