You Never Know

A week after Billie Timothy’s funeral,

when we get to church all three back sections are opened up.

Usually there is only one.

“What is going on?” I ask Dave Schramn, who has a program.

“Is it a funeral?”

“I don’t know. Let’s look,” he obliged. 

“Is it mine?”

“Wouldn’t that be awful," he muses,

"to be the last to know that you are dead?” 

Nothing.

So I sit down,

relieved to know I am still alive.