Canadian Bound

No flame will touch you, instead a transporter will see you to a neighboring country.

I imagine by commercial plane, the train is too loud, and the Greyhound is too bumpy.

We all said our goodbyes without an elaborate act out or interpretive delay.

Nix the autopsy. We all have our guesses, but none of them end in foul play.

We now commend your beautiful soul to the omnipotent and loving creator.

Your soul has retained all dignity, but your body has been cast in refrigerator.

You'll end up in Montreal or maybe the address of our cousins was Québec.

Forgive me, it's been a while since we visited them with them, I didn't really check.

It broke my heart when you thought your immigration was becoming a nuisance.

You were a sweet person caught in a bad situation, but that is just my two cents.

Kiss my mother, after making the proper obeisance to the Son of God.

I have many reasons to think our collective time is up, and not one is odd.

Everyone wants me to voice jubilation even as I am shrouded in death.

Marie was spared conflagration, classy gesture, but she still has no breath.

I'm not really sad as much as I am stuck in an unhealthy contemplation.

I could still my racing mind with drugs, but that is more of a wealthy temptation.

In our immediate family, I am the third, until my knowledge of you made me forth.

Time to love you across a boarder with your soul in heaven, the other great north.