cortège
named for his father, i held his hand as we walked up the winding road to the churchyard. i held his hand as we walked behind the hearse with its great glass windows on all sides, i held his hand while the coffin sat raised high within and the flowers in the rear window spelled out both of their names.
it was april — it was april and there were primroses and there were crocuses and it was april and this happened once.
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