A bright spring day.
A handful of the kindest people.
Smart clothes.
Red brick, neatly tended.
Flowers.

A shiny black car.
Silver trimmings.
A tiny white coffin.
A father’s arms to carry it.
Flowers.

Letters filled with love.
Love was not enough.
Music.
Poetry.
Flowers.

A kiss on a box to say good-bye.
A touch from a finger tip.
Run away. Don’t look back.
Later, another box.
A Baby Boy. Aged 11 days.

The world is inside out.
This is horror.
Birth and Death.
Friends.
Flowers.