ShrinkRap: Twenty Minutes

It was all over, really,
In twenty minutes.
Fringe acquaintances
And village ghouls
Peeled off to get one in
Before closing-time.
Relatives, in blood order,
Organised themselves
Along three sides,
The bottom too deep
To see through moistening eyes.
Sentry yews, black-green,
Bore witness,
A routine, familiar tableau,
High hopes to dust
But failures, too, to ashes.