A handful of dirt

The day was cold and grey, I was wishing I’d worn a vest under my shirt.Then the bikers arrived and I wished I’d worn my leather. You wouldn’t of cared either way. I just wanted to say good-bye. 

A handful of dirt

It would have been a glance across a crowded bar,
a nod to the wise and a pint half raised.
We were never any good with words.

A mound of fake grass masks the reality
of freshly dug earth. You’ve been hiding
while the word spread, flowers darkened
and everyone who knew you was your friend.

Finally you arrive and I think of fulcrums
and moments as little Joey shoulders
all your weight again. I don’t recognise you
as they speak of a child becoming a young man,
but I can see you in your mothers eyes.

Later we’ll bring you back to life
with good whisky and songs, sell each other stories
of how it always was with you.
I’ll see you across the crowded bar, raise my glass
and you’ll know we were never good with words.



© savvi 2023
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critique and comments welcome.
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I like this, as it relies on the reader’s interpretation to complete the picture and we are ‘shown’ not ‘told’. The clever use of ambiguous verses (is he? – isn’t he?} worked very well.


Loved it, inspired writing. You really are on top form.


Superb! I loved the last line coming from a wordsmith!

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