Black car

Lilies. The air was thick.

And my small hand, so quick

to grip the rough wool coat.

A dry, lost note.

The ground smelled damp and deep.

Secrets the quiet keep.

My breath caught in my throat.

Too loud, a tiny boat

adrift on heavy sound.

A black car on the ground.

They said it was her rest.

But my own small chest

felt wrong.