Mame Willey Poem Becomes A Song

I am writing this card, as I feel I must, to tell you how sorry I am

that your mother has died. I guess I can tell you

that I always said hi as she stepped already a white-faced ghost

through the halls

on her walker.

Her great-lady days, alas, were over

but I always liked sitting with her at lunch.

As you see I’m writing this on a card

that shows one of Monet’s endless

scenes of a water-lily pond.

I’ll reproduce it as best I can all the while telling you how much I cared

for your mother

and enjoyed her company.

Some of the great-lady days survived

in her conversation at lunch.

(I exaggerate a bit as one does in these things)

but I hope you’ll find some solace in the card, and in the painting

and in my make-believe of sitting here

where Monet once sat

with his easel.