I threw the first shovel
of dirt on your wooden coffin.

I expected you to protest
the sullying of the polished wood,

or to call out for your mother,
or introduce us to your

long dead husband,
but all we heard

was the thunk and chunk
of the clayey earth

dancing off the cover,
while you maintained silence.

First published in Penumbra Online, Fall 2024 – Dirt
https://www.penumbraonline.com/fall-2024