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Scott Knutson, click here
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The procession moves slowly,
between headstones and statuary.
Between the future and the past,
while the present’s in bloom.
Heads bowed and lips quiver
as misplaced sadness resounds.
Prayers are rote although comforting; crying hands touch the tomb.
Last words fall tenderly
as tears lead the solemn return.
As the dead walk away,
the living buried in the womb
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A different take on a funeral.
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