Page 21 - Contrast1993Fall
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A loud, rapid knock interrupts.
I hear excited voices talking
About ambulances.
Dinner is strained and quiet
My mom says Mr. Meade has died,
His heart.
A sea of black suits and dresses,
Adults.
Their faces drawn and voices hushed.
My mom says his spirit is going to heaven.
I look above the coffin,
For something beautiful and white,
Like the glow from the fireflies
Nothing's there but the cold white wall,
Where is it?
It must be trapped inside.
I press my ear on the cold, smooth, coffin,
It looks so dark and closed.
Ouch! A bony hand pulls me away
With angry whispers of conste_rnati.on.
Maybe it needs holes, like my Jelly Jar?
Mr. Meade is a firefly.
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