No shops were closed on the cold September.
No newspaper boys with heavy coats and loud voices yelled,
“Extra Extra Read all about it.”
No schools were closed.
No kids stayed home.
No flags hung at half mast.
Which is funny because she was the one who told me what was inside the little ball on top of a flag pole.
A match
And a razor blade.
Nothing funny about that.
No Guilded carriage carried her coffin
followed by a riderless horse.
There was not coverage at eleven for the people who missed it at eight.
The sun still came up like it always did in september,
but from now on it will be a little less bright.