Like with Mother, the rain came.
The earth was awash with grief.
Black umbrellas freak me. And the vomit
of priests. This is the darkest day of my
brief history. My black shoes fill with
water. Aunt would have groused
at the inclement weather. In the future,
whenever there is rain, I shall be cast
back to your graveside. Throwing earth
and flowers onto your casket. Whilst
I live, I shall always mourn for you.