Making Ashes On The Hill
A stark blue sky meets red pitched roof, As life meets death in quick succession. There amidst the summer crops, the living proof, that mourning has become a grim profession.
Rolling line of slick production reels, Loosely scripted, heartfelt. Grief is choking. Audience participates, a tearful sight. Curtains closed, vents open, chimneys smoking. Biographies and eulogies abridged, Cathartic yet rhetorical, recited. Hurriedly assembled mixed acquaintances, Bereaved among the voyeurs and the unrequited.
Faithless, indiscriminate and open to grant the paying life's last dignity. The moral debt outweighing hefty profits made from civilisation's oldest industry.
Revolving door of life in repetition. Departure lounge in which to wait until our ritual of remembrance can commend them to the task of making ashes on the hill.
Posted Apr 1, 2018, 10:13 PM UTC
"biographies and eulogies abridged, Cathartic yet rhetorical, recited."
at this moment my emotion changed from redditor just looking to give some feedback after stumbling upon this sub. To someone who believes they just witnessed a miracle. This composition of words is eloquent and I feel my mind wanting to hear more of what you have to say.
Thanks for your kind words. I laboured over this one for a fair while, and similarly over the decision of which poem to share first, as I am new to this group.
Your feedback is a welcome encouragement to share more, and is gratefully appreciated.