Shriveled up like dehydrated apple slice,

you lie motionless in a quaint pit

full of shiny rocks and moss pieces

that have become your eternal bed.

The sun, with it’s omnipotent power

gave you life

and just as easily sucked it right out

like a greedy toddler slurping 

a green apple slush.

Before this tragedy,

you had a family.

You, your wife and kids

would all go on hops around the pond,

the one full of the bright yellow flowers

that you used to propose to your beloved wife.

When you’d get home, 

you’d tuck the kids into bed,

give them a kiss on the cheek,

and sing them a tune your mother taught you

until they drifted into slumber.

Sadly, on that cursed day

you slipped into the hungry mouth

of my basement window sill.

It gobbled you up,

without any regard for who you were. 

The gluttonous beast,

trapped you in it’s hungry belly 

where the digestive sun,

snatched your soul into the afterlife.

I wish I could have helped you,

scooped you up and plopped you back into your home.

But I failed.

I only noticed 

after, you were reduced to a boney figure 

covered in crinkly flesh.

I know this sad excuse of a eulogy cannot replace

your sweet being. 

But I hope it helps you rest a bit easier

atop your rocky bed

at the bottom of my basement windowsill.