On Not Attending the Funeral Today

The funeral – sorry, memorial service –

for one of my sister Goddesses

is happening now and I’m not there.

Truthfully, catching a virus was convenient. 

I’m about funeralled out. Not that I didn’t 

care for her. Not that I’m not sad. Just that 

suddenly this one feels too much. Too many.

And my circle dancing days, my old body

tells me, are done. I’ve lent my velvet cloak 

and my sacred silk scarf to another Goddess 

who had moved away, but happens to be back

here at just this time. I know she was 

closer than I was to our dead friend, so

that seems right. I always think of her wearing

her own cloak – bright pink – joyously. 

Perhaps, today, it’s  better she wears 

my magenta one in grief. The Universe is good

at synchronising these tiny, fateful details.

For the rest, guests were requested

to wear either appropriate black, or else

the vivid colours – deep blues and greens,

bright purples – which the late artist loved.

I don my customary black pants, and add 

a vivid blue top. No, I’m not attending 

this funeral today, yet all my thoughts are there.