Creaks...wind howls,
Lightning crashes, hooting owls;
It's not Halloween, not even close,
But this old man worries about ghosts.
He's not an invalid, his brain is intact,
But he hears things in the corridor, the dismal tract;
If he would tell his children, or his home-health nurse,
It would be county hospital, so what is worse?
Dear Bridget, gone now for a year,
But somehow NOT gone is the genuine fear;
She couldn't let him be happy while alive,
But now she's enraged that it was HE that survived!
