Jack Cohen

Dear Mary Beth

Is that you Mary Beth,
Moving around outside my bedroom door?

What are you mumbling dear wife?
I can't hear so good no more.

Can't see so good anymore either.
Though I don't suppose you mind

Remember back when we were young?
How we'd dance, how we'd wind.

Course that was back then
before you got sick.

And that funny lookin man came asking about you,
all cloaked and thin as a stick.

Kept asking where you were buried,
I didn't know what to say.

Said I see something amazing,
so I told him and he went away.

When you came back,
I couldn't believe the sight.

Though real quick I could tell
something wasn't quite right.

You'd mumble and scratch
you'd cry and bite.

With those cold white eye's you'd stand dead still
just watching me all night.

Oh quit scratching dear,
in a bit I'll be right out.

Then we can be together again.
of that, they'll be no doubt.

We'll dance and sing into the night,
maybe see that strange man again.

Now let's see, ah there you are.
my dear dead wife, let's be together then.


  • L. B. Mek

    wonderfully creative, may I dare
    to guess, if this has that T. S. Elliot
    Alfred Prufrock - playfulness, woven
    into its scene depicted: realism..
    a wonderful reading experience
    thanks for sharing dear poet
    I really admire your diverse range
    and artistic courage to experiment

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