His Funeral

Poetry by Ralph La Rosa Leaning close, Frank whispers urgently,“You shoulda wore a black suit, this’s navy,”not the first to remind Vic as old guys squeezehis hand until it hurts. Black suits and ties. Frank hangs on tight, face angry, sad and sorry:“Your dad’s partner, Tony, he’s insulting him.”Vic had quit the seminary, assured hisContinue reading “His Funeral”