Wake

I heard the dreadful news Thanksgiving Day
and wondered as I prepped our festive food
if Paula could express her gratitude
considering how Jim had passed away.
My wife insisted we attend the Mass
for Jim had always liked to hear me sing;
we steeled ourselves to face this somber thing
then left to make our own respectful pass.
His lifeless mask was grayer than the cold
November sky, but everywhere were those
affected by the selfless path he chose
in celebration as the bellman tolled.
I opted to ignore the plastic shell
and focused on the life he lived so well.