The Three Funerals

THE THREE FUNERALS

Did you know that every genuine Couple goes through exactly three funerals?

Did you know that none of these three are their deaths?

— I —

THE FIRST FUNERAL
 

[indescribable]

— II —

THE SECOND FUNERAL
 

The younger brothers are not here

There are no younger brothers here

Two-thousand older sisters

Screaming sleeves

How many combs have fallen?

Maybe many combs have fallen…

— III —

THE THIRD FUNERAL
 

The winter wind’s the only wind that’s been and this is right

If you’ve heard crying gales with trails of seal-script tears in sight

It is the wind in constant, ancient search with all her might

She seeks her little bridegroom, longing sore to hold him tight

Advancing stannous copper bells ring loudly on the height

The sun descends below the sea and all is far less bright

Her hundred hands as fair as snow through every space make flight

And skillfully unfurl the secret hours of the night