A short story about a funeral that could be the funeral of any man or woman.

You Can’t Take It with You.

Standing there at the funeral Of the son you once had………..

A girl of my imagination years gone by steals my fascination and returns as an incarnation.

In bed one night Jung was thinking about the funeral he had attended the day before. Suddenly he had a vision: his dead friend was standing at the foot of his head, looking down at him.

A cinquain poem I wrote in language arts class.