Was It a Dream?
by Ron Larson
From a short story by Guy de Maupassant
I loved Michelle as much as any man could.
When she died, I felt as if I'd turned to wood.
I roamed our apartment looking for signs of her.
I thought I saw her in the bedroom mirror.
I could not eat or sleep, such was my grief.
I walked the streets, but received no relief.
Every day, I went to her grave site,
But my life remained an eternal night.
I re-read her many love letters to me.
They only widened and deepened my misery.
One day I was speaking to my lover,
And I decided to stay the night with her.
As the hours slowly passed, I grew weary.
Then I saw something I could not believe.
It was midnight when they came from their graves,
And I learned that most of them were knaves.
With rotting bones, they wrote truth on their stones.
They were liars who had made lovers moan.
Their other evils I will not relate.
I'll just state selfishness was up to date.
My lover's stone said: "She loved, was loved, and died."
Then she arose from her grave before my eyes.
She wrote: "Having gone out in the rain one day
To meet my new lover, so we could play,
"I passed away after I caught a bad cold.
My na‘ve old lover was never told."
Her candid words caused me to pass out.
I think it was a dream, but I have some doubt.
© 2016 Ron Larson
Ron Larson is a retired community college professor, one of whose hobbies is writing poetry of all kinds. The poem above is from his soon to be self-published book, "76 More Strange Stories Outlined in Rhyme", which will be available online. Additional horror stories are available in his "Grimm's Complete Fairly Tales Outlined in Rhyme." His website may be found at ronlarsonclassics.com.
Find more by Ron Larson in the Author Index.
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