Ceremony After the Ceremony
— Miramar National Cemetery
Young woman striding over the grass
down the newest row of graves,
bearing a gold-flecked urn. Left hand
underneath, right hand on top. Sober
green coat and slacks, sturdy black shoes.
Two workmen waiting for her.
Turf peeled back, ground opened.
Family not permitted. After the service
at the committal shelter, after “Taps,”
after the mourners have driven away—
this ceremony after the ceremony.
How she holds the urn close to her body.
How it feels to carry that weight.
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Lisa Morin Carcia’s poems have appeared in Whale Road Review, Eunoia Review, Sheila-Na-Gig online, SWWIM Every Day, Talking River Review, North American Review, Floating Bridge Review, and elsewhere. She lives near Seattle, Washington.
