After the funeral
The house is bereft of shadows, which only the crook
of sunlight can recreate. Death has been battered into
a peculiar shape to assist scrutiny, to define the
of grief; its elliptical orbit coincides with the line
The couch looks worn.
The glow of the chandelier, mutinous.
The refrigerator is filled with casseroles from
and friends. In the den, the relatives say the same
again. Dust has accumulated on the kitchen counter,
on the coffee table, in places where hands have yet to
The doors have handwritten labels,
chiseled by numbered lives.
words: Kristine Ong Muslim, Phillippines (Bibliography)
photo: Steve Wing, Florida (sand shadow)