Eulogy for a Wealthy Friend

Then from this day
The juggling fades,
No more hullaballoo.
We lead away
To the parade
Of what will come after you.

We were so blind
Behind our doors
Wondering what we might be,
When unrefined
And ghastly poor
We lived out our days most free.

We pulled the weeds
And planted roses
Knowing not what else to do.
From buried seeds
Rich stems arose
And the colors of wealthy grew.

The flowers dead
But prettily,
Like us the earth had a vigor.
Our minds a weld
Held steadily
In search of something bigger.

We killed the thrill
For quantity,
For comfort in a morass.
A small dirt hill,
A small ditty,
A life too quickly passed.

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