Dear Dorothy

(Submitted in our magazine)

Dear Dorothy,

You wept as your husband

Who wore uniforms of green with an unsocial stature

Peacefully rest in a suit, forever asleep.

But you still sang with your out-of-key voice

About the days when you were a girl.

These songs from Norway

Caroled, Jesus bevare barnet, with a crooked smile

About things that you’ve lost.

As your hair grew gray your mind grew hazy

As his skin went from warm to cold,

His soul was sent to above

To the Christ whom you believe.

You keep asking where he went, Has he been well?

And I’ve told you three times 

He has passed, passed and PASSED.

The unreachable, unlikely retention of undeniable truths

Your old mind won’t forgive the things you’ve outlived.

So that final time you asked Where has he gone

And I said Frank’s finally found home

I didn’t tell you that IT was six months ago, 

The falling of a man you still call to.

I am sorry we didn’t listen.

As he was wheeled off, With our halfhearted goodbyes

He yelled a swear.

He was the first apple of the harvest, a provider of hope.

Yet, he was a desolate man

Who was not the boy you married.

Dear Dorothy,

I know you want him back

So just keep waiting

With your white curly head and sing your songs 

While sitting in HIS chair.

Your great granddaughter, Ashley