In a coffin of pecan wood, before the altar, he lays still.
His mother approaches and kisses his face and runs her fingers through his hair.
The older brother comes to weep over him, and younger to say what had been left un said.
The lid closes, and a communion of saints gather around us, and we are held by love.
His body goes to ground under Wye Oaks, to soon beside Grandparents.
But his spirit soars, unbound from shame, untouched by fear, and welcomed home.