The Wake

© Hall Jameson

I am surrounded by strangers

who could be one in the same

while I seek a soul

who I know only by name

All done in black

with white at their chest

I push through their ranks

with a degree of unrest

This crowd is disturbed

my appellation unknown

A frenzied intruder

whose face is not shown

I search and I search

but the man is not here

as I near the long box

at the end of the pier

I clutch at my throat

for my breath has now ceased

As I see my intent

has become the deceased