You just lay there in a wooden box
sleeping someone yawned.
You never slept like this before
with folks watching in church clothes.
Uncle Lee gave a nervous laugh.
I stared at nothing funny.
“They’re smoking in the back,”
says a man in black.
At home I watched your bed last night.
it was breathing, gasping like you.
How can you be dead? Beds don’t lie.
I couldn’t help it,
I watched mom make your bed,
real nice she made it, but my eyes spied
your slippers are missing.