Funeral Poem

I went to a funeral today and it reminded me of a poem I wrote several years ago: 

The Funeral Card

Nothing trumps hard

Like the funeral card.

It leaves no hope for another hand,

Not even a jovial, get-ya-next-time goodbye

To the others at the table from the losing man. 

A funeral sobers all with silent solidity,

Leaving us in impotent disarmament 

And toothless rage, 

As if we find the game is rigged

Just after all the money has been waged. 

Thank you God for funerals.

They teach me why I need to be saved. 

MM