Laughter in the Silence

The chapel held its breath, time stood still,

as my friend told of Uncle Jim's last thrill.

A quip so bad, it twisted our grief,

a joke about heaven and parking, a brief relief.

Laughter fluttered in the thick, humid air,

like petals peeling from a bouquet, bare.

We erupted, a storm amidst sorrow's hold,

reminding us laughter's worth more than gold.

In shadows, the memories ache and dwell,

but for that moment, all felt swell.