Last Night

It was dark, it was night.

I was lonely and afraid.

The rain pounded on the windows

and I a sad widow, 

was waiting for my dead wife.

Tic-toc, tic-toc went the clock.

The wind hauled against the walls.

And I sat there waiting.

In vain.

My veins, waiting as well.

A thunder strikes, 

I take a deep breath and cut.

But feet no pain.

I am about to see my dead wife again.

A knock on the door.

“Honey, I’m home.”