Her Father’s Funeral (an unfinished poem)

This poem is unfinished.  It's a recent piece and will likely be revised many times before I am satisfied that it's finished.  But I wanted to share it anyway.

Her Father’s Funeral

She waited until the crowd had gone
The backhoe was filling in the grave
She asked the old man if she could have a minute please
And he agreed
She dropped the witch bottle into the half-filled grave
With a small bunch of lilies tied with black string
She nodded to the old man
And he began filling in the grave again
And she walked away
Walked away free