Peter A. Weinberg – Poetry

So this is how it ends
   in a small church in New Jersey
   in a draped coffin

Here’s how it ends—
   in a sad small ceremony
   in front of grieving colleagues,
      close family, friends

Driving home from the doctor
   to tell your two children
   not to worry about their mother

You collapsed, instead, in the driveway
   a vein ruptured in your head
   “the children” you said then
      “the children”

-Revised September 4, 2009-