Ada Mcdonald 1873-1906
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Poem 48
From the anthology, Voices From Mt. Olive Cemetery, a work in progress.
Ada McDonald
1873-1906
This is a mistake!
A huge contretemps indeed!
A foul up of the most egregious kind!
You see, it wasn’t my time yet,
This death thing; I had things to do still.
I had places yet to visit I had never seen before.
I had strangers from distant locales to meet still,
I had a multitude of tomorrows yet,
or so I thought, having no doubt.
But now, here I am, dead as a doorstop,
At last with all the minions and the predecessors,
At last, all reconciled and made equal.
But you see, I was fine that day.
Thinking nothing tragic would happen to me.
Expecting another evening at home, with
Yet another morning to come, and waking up.
I tell you, I have been wronged!
This is the cruelest of mistakes!
Dear God almighty!
You took away my dream that day!
Robbed me of my perfumed interlude in the shadows,
It was all I ever wanted; just ten groping minutes,
Naked with my dream lover,
One Roscoe Settle, late of this citrus parish.
But the lights went out, instantly!
Inside my parents old house on North Pickering,
When my brain sprung a leak that day,
And I dropped dead at age 33.
A huge contretemps indeed!
A foul up of the most egregious kind!
Copyright © Stark Hunter | Year Posted 2018
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