It was a kind funeral. Black cloth and sweet rolls.
They sang your song and recycled old stories anew.
They spoke well-wishes, treated me as if I was still whole.
They saw your empty body laid to rest then scattered like crows.
We buried two that day, you and I.
Bryson Mooso is still searching for that perfect sentence. He’s resigned to writing millions of them to find it.
Beautiful, Bryson. Well done!
Well done Bryson. Fifty words that say so much more.
You’re getting pretty darn close to, Bryson.
You capture a lot in 50 words