(This was written by my oldest son who will be a first time Daddy in August! Copyrighted)


CONVERSATIONS with a CORONER 'bout a WOMAN'S LAMENT
~ JaredCC

//

FELLOW:
Pray, whence that sound / So familiar, sad

CORONER:
'Tis the woman who sits / Atop the hill

FELLOW:
Whence then her sorrow / Such bitter lament

CORONER:
Alas, see ye / Her son lay dead

FELLOW:
But the sound is more fretful / Tis no hymn of rest

CORONER:
Days she carried him / Dead - near her breast / Whilst he yet slept (cold with death's chill)

FELLOW:
Oblivious of his cadaverous will?

CORONER:
Oblivious aye, oblivious still / Laid she her son down / Where ye lay now / Then took her to roost, atop the hill

FELLOW:
And took up the lament - but why? pray tell / she know'd not - her son's offed

CORONER:
Why she beckons him join her atop the hill

FELLOW:
And who be ye / to tell such a tale, of the woman's lament atop the hill?

CORONER:
I am the Coroner & Coffiner called to ye side / I'll be burying thee, now I've d'termined thee hast died

FELLOW:
She calls to me?

CORONER:
Aye

FELLOW:
And I am not alive?

CORONER:
Aye

FELLOW:
She laments not my unliving? / ‘Tis not her distress?!

CORONER:
She laments - it seems - loneliness

FELLOW:
Curious...

CORONER:
Indeed

FELLOW:
Please shut her up lest I never get rest

CORONER:
Gods know I've tried / Close ye now ears, eyes, mouth, mind / For I'm to nail shut the lid / and bid ye both g'night