As I lie alone in my large bed
Occasionally graced by a big cat
I recall the habits of the long gone dead
For there is an article I just read
How entire families used to lay down and might chat
As I sing along in my large bed
I wonder what my husband would have said
Had I asked the neighbours to do that
I recall the habits of the friendly dead
I know my bed is smaller than a shed
The surface seems unsteady and not flat
As I lie and tell the truth in my large bed
I feel ashamed; my high boned cheeks are red
Is that strange noise a tiger or a rat?
I cry,I’m missing all my friends who’re dead
If our innings comes, we each must bat
For life does not award an aegrotat
As I lie in reverie in my bed
I float into a dream redeeming dread.
