Mary Wanda Witherbee Poem by Carolyn Michael

Mary Wanda Witherbee
Had arthritis in both knees
White hair matted down with pins
And brimming with disease

But her thin lips often smiled
Her hazel eyes did too
And her voice was always soothing
To one with trouble due

She woke one night abruptly
To warm hands on her thighs
Kisses up and down her neck
Her heart kicking with surprise

But she did not cringe or pull away
She felt nostalgia seep in
Back to her days of wild
Wearing nothing but a grin

All at once she found herself
Walking through an old, dim hall
The air brought sour memory
That made her grey skin crawl

She peeked around an open door
To see rows of weepers in black
And Mary Wanda Witherbee
Was laying peacefully on her back