In place of candles, toothbrushes. In place of gloomy faces, shiny happy smiles. Yellow and white, petals of flowers,and a sense of feast. Even the skull, he laughs.
Taking care of unclaimed bodies is facing death, just like taking it by hand. One woman shakes her hands in joy,fingers keep working with patience, and closeness beats fear.
A man holds a head, he prays and cries, and seems to wonder for a while, pleading for an answer like a white dressed Hamlet, down there, in the land of smiles..
Wondering and working,and hoping for a word – what else we do round here?
Ancient song from Sicily said: “…..I saw a skull upon a cannon, and that was talking to me. Told me “..I was dead without a touch of bell..” I asked him why this life is all made of sorrow, then I said yes, I’ll keep on trying… I’m just going to keep on trying.