The Day that Mary went Away
Joseph V. Danoski
I asked her nicely not to leave,
But she made like a tree and left;
Leaving me all alone to grieve,
Forever feeling so bereft.
Yet, she is always ever near,
With the memories I hold so dear.
She whispers in the autumn leaves,
In a voice only I can hear;
Or in the winds beneath the eaves,
Sometimes I’ll even shed a tear.
I hope she’s in a better place,
She disappeared without a trace.
I revisit her when skies are gray,
To relive that merry month of May;
The happy day she came to stay,
Before she had to go away.
Leaving me standing there in grief,
A tree that lost its one-last leaf.
She didn’t realize what it meant,
Just thought I had a need to vent.
I never told them where she went,
And now the flowers wear her scent.
She comes to haunt my dreams,
Enjoying all my shrieks and screams.
Danoski, Dojonaki05@Netscape.Net and email@example.com, lives happily on the plains of his
imagination in the
White Mountains of New Hampshire. Under the pen name “Jonathan Konrad,” he
published his first poetry chap book, Shock
Waves: Letters from the Edge, in 1987. It has been favorably reviewed and
is available from the poet for $6.95. Many of his poems have also been
published in his city newspaper, The
Berlin Reporter, and, by request—for the 1997 Berlin Centennial—he
delivered his poem “The City Built from Trees” at City Hall. Preferring
speculative fiction, the author also loves writing letters and essays, playing
music, gardening, and stargazing. Publications have appeared in Penny Dreadful, Pivot, Psychopoetica
(UK), The Nocturnal Lyric, The
Quest (India) and The Aurorean.