Three men in dark suits
sit chatting on the stone wall
that rims a funeral home sign
set before a large, white, Victorian house
shaded by elms, a house
bearing the body and mourners
these hired drivers await.
Just down the small-town street,
a white-bearded monk
in a long, hooded, white robe
paces in waiting
before the open doors
of his dark, empty church, its pews
splashed by stained-glass window light.
The road to the cemetery
crosses train tracks
that pass an open-air station
where a gaggle of travelers stand by.
Then an unseen
train, from a distance,
sounds its warning of approach
and the waiting
drivers and monk and travelers
all turn toward
this heavy, solemn, slowing
force.
Waiting by Mark Belair | Lemon Poetry Reed Diffuser
Mark Belair’s poems have appeared in numerous journals, including
Harvard Review, Michigan Quarterly Review and Southern Poetry Review.
He is the author of eight collections of poems and two works of
fiction: Stonehaven (Turning Point, 2020) and its sequel, Edgewood
(Turning Point, 2022). His most recent collection of poems is Settling
In (Kelsay Books, 2024). He has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize
multiple times, as well as for a Best of the Net Award. Please visit
www.markbelair.com
