Maybe That's It Poem by Holly Gardner

There it was encircling my head
Like some kind of wreath.
White, hot and sharper than lightning
Running round and round.

Who was it put there for?

And the poor doggies.
Most didn't notice,
Having come from heaven,
But the one uninitiated girl.

Later I moved to a beach town and
Worked a little as a chambermaid.
There was an accident.
A young lady died.

And I went to clean the room she'd died in.
She wouldn't budge, and kept talking.
The nerve of some specters.
I said, 'get out of here.'

But she's okay it seems. Maybe that's it.

HG 2022