My Father (III)

The Void Deck

it was there his body lay.
the yellowing pillars were shrouded
in white, a banner of silver lifted
over a withered husk, which was once
a man. a person. a husband. a father.
perhaps a friend above all, who once was
warm, but now cold. but they tried,
we all did, to keep the burning embers
of memory, to warm ourselves in the light
of he who once was, and ever will be etched
in countless lives of paths crossed. we did.
yet, he has been sent on his way,
and the tables we gathered round so swiftly
whisked away, to another conference of remembrance,
so fly the banner, so read the same words over another.
returning, there is left only the transparent visage of
what once was; the echo
of fond conversation, the murmur
of grieving hearts, the shuffle of departing feet.
it was there his body lay,
and now there is