It was chilly that day for September down here.
Raindrops fell like tiny wet needles.
They lowered the casket and she stepped up.
We were sure she would fall.
She was seventy-two.
Didn't even weigh ninety pounds soaking wet,
and if you had seen her waving goodbye,
leaning over that hole in the ground—
if you were there and you couldn't cry,
does it matter then how much money you make.
How pretty you are.
Who your daddy is.