That Last Time
That was the last time
you saw her alive
going into a store
with some guy
you assumed
was her husband
and she looked over at you
as you sat opposite the store
and smiled her smile
like she used to
way back in 62
when it was just
she and you
sitting by the pond
or walking through
the small wood
talking as you used to
with youth on your side
and love hanging on
a chain about your neck
and that was back then
that day you were just
an observer outside
a store watching her
walk by with some other
not knowing Mr Death
was trailing her
even then
that cancer
maybe even as she walked
touching her
with its oily finger
oh how men love and lose
but the great memory
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poem by Terry Collett
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