If I Was Gone

If I was gone people would pretend they knew me They would come to the house and annoy my husband. He would keep the door locked and not let them in The dog would bark her disapproval. If I was gone they would tell jokes about me. They would embellish the truth, so it would be funnier. I would be sitting in the eaves, listening, so I could correct them if any of us got to heaven. If I was gone they would tear my house apart. They would burn all of my paintings. They would dance and sing around the bonfire. They would debate cleaning my house. If I was gone I would not care. I would turn my back on this world And go tromping into the next one Or the next life, for I do not think any of us Is ever truly gone.