Marilyn's Birthday

It’s Marilyn’s birthday; in previous years We’d go out to dinner, at least. We’d each have an entrée and share a dessert, The closest, for us, to a feast. We didn’t trade gifts, but on “big ones” we would – Maybe bracelets, ceramics, or bags And we’d talk of the turns of our different lives – The triumphs and also the snags. But Marilyn’s gone now; just four years ago I saw her on that hospital bed, With her arms wrapped around a stuffed monkey, a pose She would never have made if not dead. I miss my dear friend and am sad she’s not here. For her birthday, I’ll offer a toast To the memory of all the time that we had Before, sadly, she gave up the ghost.