THE DEAD AMONG US
Dust floats and turns in shafts of filtered sunlight
as son, grandsons, friends carry in the coffin
of that lovely, gracious woman. Her husband,
now wheelchair-bound, weeps, and is comforted.
The Offices of the Dead begin. Outside
the fields and hedgerows of the parish shimmer.
The church door is wide because of the heat.
From my pew I can see through the lychgate
to where the undertaker’s men are chatting.
The hatchback of the hearse is open.
A tractor with a hay baler passes.
‘There is a green hill far away’, we sing,
and ‘In England’s green and pleasant land’.
All is movement, and flux – the dead among us
the only stillness.
Clive Watkins
November 6, 2026I like this a lot, David. It’s an instance of the expressive power of the plain style. Why, for instance, do I find this line, with its seven ordinary words, so affecting: ‘A tractor with a hay baler passes’? The tractor hauls away part of the summer’s harvest; the hearse (in the previous line) is awaiting its own harvest load. The hay reminds me of the biblical admonition that ‘All flesh is grass’. This comes from Isaiah chapter 40: ‘All flesh is grass, and all the goodliness thereof is as the flower of the field: The grass withereth, the flower fadeth’. But, as the final verse of the chapter asserts, ‘they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint’. For those who believe – and the whole chapter is a call to such belief – these words must offer some comfort. The last word of the sentence – ‘passes’ – resonates on a nearby note, reminding us that ‘passes’ is a synonym for ‘dies’. (This is often thought to be a modern euphemism, but it can be traced back to the middle ages.) I hope those who were present at this funeral can draw some consolation from your words. As I say, it’s an instance of the expressive power of the plain style: plain is not the same as simple. Bravo!