to the funeral of my friend’s mother,
where words grew thin
and silence knew no names.
necropolis facing acropolis,
death and height staring at one another
like old philosophers
who already knew the answer.
the necropolis slept at the edges,
a distant place for ashes and memory.
But here, in modern city of hassles,
it is vast, present, unavoidable
a city within the city.
traffic, voices, unfinished plans,
people climbing toward tomorrow
without looking across the road.
Prayers dissolve into air.
Life continues, stubborn and bright,
while death waits calmly,
never in a hurry.
What a truth, life replies
those beginnings and endings
often live face to face,
and we are always
crossing the street between them.



