The Last One

A bright sunny church
with soaring rafters,
vast windows, unlike
Ada’s childhood church
did not lighten her desolation.
Outside traffic roared through
the busy suburb evolved
from the beach side village
to which Ada had retired
after her husband’s death
nearly thirty years before.
In several pews sat the senior
citizens’ club, so young to be retired.
Those Ada had first known
in that little village were
now all in the cemetery.
Only Rosie and Ada had been left
to ring each other every morning-
“I am well ……how are you ?”

Now Rosie’s children and grandchildren
filled more pews. Ada had no children
only a few relatives scattered
around the country.
Who would come to Ada’s funeral ?
More parishioners filed in,
young and middle aged.

Ada sat in the back pew,
in a foreign land,
her own country folk gone.
So many vacant birthdays
and anniversaries of people
no longer there to inhabit them,
only their ghosts
surrounded Ada.

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The Last One

2 thoughts on “The Last One

    1. She was real twenty five years ago, and it was very sad to see her at my aunt’s funeral. “Rosie” was my aunt who also died at a very old age – in another city.

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