by: Howard Fergus
We were quick to congregate
at the beautiful dry river for the opening
sentence of the cemetery at Lookout.
We won’t be late for the convivial house warming
void of tears on this occasion.
Undertakers did not let us down;
they were on hand among the sick of us
just in case, a fat prospect in the meagre month
of January for guinea pigs and ground breaking
but they drew no blood. Sandwiches
were appropriately vegetarian and
spartan. Prayers rehearsed by frocks of holy
orders were the filling fare with political
tit bits on the side, and an official roll of the
heroes of the cemetery to eulogies.
The site drew general approval: upscale,
breath taking vistas out of this world
with another land in view. Pity
the tenants cannot appreciate this private piece
of real estate. We came early for the viewing.
