Poetic Tides Through Time

Proof of Death

Twenty times he heard her say,
“My husband Joe, has died this day.
Making phone calls to companies,
Just to tell them that as required
Her true love had expired.

Tears rolled down her cheeks at times
“People are so nice, that’s when I cry”
I wondered what could possibly be
Nice about reporting
When your love had died?

He wanted to take this task from her,
To spare her pain and stop her tears.
But alas! The companies want to hear
From kin closely near
To the someone’s departed dear.

How cruel, he thought;
Is this paper chase
The cost of living life?
Surely there is another way
To shield her from this strife!

“Send proof of death”, they all do say
“We need to know,
Did he really pass away?”
How ironic, how strange - this interchange
Their very first words cause grief and pain.

“Oh and we will send you forms to fill”,
All many pages long,
As their requirements fuel her pain,
The “Proof of Death” paper trail
Rolls on and on.

In silence he watched heaven’s gate open
As his body floated in, St. Peter simply smiled
And said, “The paper trail ends;
No ‘Proof of death’ required.
And nodding to him said, “Welcome friend!”


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Entry: April 9, 2017
Prompt: Ghost, ghostly
For: Dew Drop Inn Poetry Workshop
Form: Quintain stanzaic poem
Rhyme Pattern: aabcc, mixed rhyme pattern

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.~~Robert Frost