Some days

Some days are supposed to be hard
it is not supposed to be easy to watch
as his dark wooden box is lowered
knowing that the person lying within
is no longer the boy you once knew
that his smiling eyes are forever shut

it is not supposed to be easy to stand
next to the loving mother of this son
to hold tight her hand whilst she tries
with everything she's got inside her
to withstand the onslaught of grief
without crumpling to the earth

it is not supposed to be easy to listen
as one after another stands out front
to say some words in choked voices
streaming eyes all around us
as earth is scattered onto the lid
and hands are pressed in their passing

it is not supposed to be easy to feel
her trembling in an effort to withstand
and then when beyond withstanding
to hold and to sway and murmur
wrapping arms tight in a vain attempt
to impart some small measure of strength

just enough to walk us back to the car
away from eyes themselves turned away
and in the shelter, behind the darkened glass
to sit beside this silently shuddering woman
feeling the helplessness that comes
from bearing witness to such devastation

knowing that this is only the start of it
that grief is a journey in its own right
that there will be more days as tough
with family and friends gone back home
and fewer of us left to stand alongside
some days are just supposed to be hard.