Epic Poetry by Michael Mack     The Last Words of Mary Dodd The funeral had been quiet - just the family - nothing more They'd laid her in her final resting place the night before. He sat now, going through the things that she had saved through life This woman who, for fifty years, had been known as his wife. The clothes he placed into a pile - the perfume for the daughter. He smiled at all the trinkets and cheap jewelry he bought her And, way up on a shelf where he had never thought to look, He reached his hand up high and came down with a ledger book. He opened it...saw birthday dates - some cooking recipes, Some facts of little consequence - some homemade remedies Then, way back on the final page he happened to explore, He saw some notes she'd written down who knows how long before. She wrote them in a quite strange way - not like a diary... It read more like a news report or some biography. He read the first line, then the next, then sat down on the bed, His eyes refusing to believe the poignant words he read.... My name is Mary Dodd I am 55 years old I am 5'1" I weigh 155 pounds I am vain enough to believe I carry it well. I have known one man in my life. My husband is a decent kind hard-working man. I have birthed two children. I have never made love. My satisfaction has never been a priority or concern. "What gibberish was this?" he thought. She'd not made love indeed! He gave her years of pleasure every time he felt the need! He almost tossed the book aside like more junk to discard But her next words jumped off the page and hit him very hard..... I have corresponded with another man. He is warm and caring makes me laugh makes me feel special cherished desired puts a smile on my face. I will lose 15 pounds then send for him. He will come. He will want to make love. I will allow him to do so. He will take me to a darkened room where I will surrender myself unashamed to his touch. I will experience one time all joy and pleasure unoffered to me until now. I will do so without guilt without regret without fear. He will guide me and I will follow willingly eagerly happily like a child. I will smile laugh cry most importantly I will feel wanted. Afterward I will lay in his arms quietly for a time then get up dress touch his lips with my finger. He will know that this will be the only time. "The dirty rotten slut!", he screamed. His voice was filled with rage. He had to force himself to not tear out and burn the page. He never thought her sexy or not even good in bed And, all the while, she passed it out to other men instead! My life will continue. I will wash cook iron clean be the perfect wife I have always been. On rare occasions that I am called upon to perform I will function capably doing what I must to validate my man's opinion of himself. Occasionally when burdens of the day become overly heavy I will release from my treasure chest of memories those precious moments of that day then when I lay amid rumpled sheets a desired fulfilled complete woman. My husband will never know. By now nighttime had fallen and her words had hit their mark. He sat alone, a huddled figure weeping in the dark. He thought of how he treated her-his lackey, fool and slave And never realized her worth til she was in the grave. "I'm sorry, girl", he whispered to the book. "I should have known It wasn't right ignoring you and leaving you alone." Had these words been a fantasy or did she really go? In that regard, she'd been correct - he'd never really know. © Michael Mack   ~*~ Michael Mack’s Home Page Website Home Page