Here in the hall we see our folk
Not ranting crowds
Not protestors
Just folk
In silent simple step
In patient line
Their homely natural selves
They do incline
The death of someone loved
Has brought them here
Within the hallowed hall
They shed a tear
And silently move onwards
Into light
To London streets
And home and safe
Goodnight
This is a glimpse
Of people at their best
Gentle easy wise
They are no pest
They walk into a room
Where life has gone
She’s gone before us
We will follow on
Brian Fahy
16 September 2022
Erris Poetry 