Roberta Beary
Suddenly, At Home
filling the brown wool suit twisted sunshine
For 44 years a face round with baby fat. Chestnut curls over pale eyes. Twin dimples. The signature crooked smile.
Now his neck purple in the casket.
funeral shuffle
slack hands deposit
condolence cards
Bits of conversation float by. About how no note was left. The passive voice, a kind of comfort.
About the Author
Roberta Beary is the longtime haibun editor of Modern Haiku. Born in Queens, New York, they identify as gender fluid and divide their time between the USA and Ireland. They are the co-author, with Lew Watts and Rich Youmans, of Haibun: A Writer’s Guide (Ad Hoc Fiction, 2023). Their fourth collection, Carousel, is now available from Snapshot Press.
Beautifully written, Roberta!
🙏 Thank you, Kat!
Poignantly written.
Thanks for that, Joanna!
I find myself wondering if his was a compulsive act or one carried out after planning.
I too wonder that, Tom. It haunts me. 💔
Very vivid piece, Roberta. The idea of the passive voice is haunting. Well done.
The sweet boyish man with dimples taking his own life is so shocking. Roberta you describe the terrible numbness that this event has been brought so well and with a spare intensity. Haunting
Roberta The terrible numbness left by the boyish man with dimples taking his own life is described so well. A spare intensity