My Mate

by Fred Shinagel

Eyes mist over with a memory:
Five years into her long decline,
still lucid and engaging,
she said, “why don’t you get married?”
“But I am married…to you”.
“You’re kidding…”

And then another five years
and a fleet of angels
claim her in her sleep.

Fred Shinagel: Retired from Wall Street, a neighbor of The New School for 49 years, a graduate of the Cooper Union and MIT, has again found expression via the right side of his brain with charcoal, pencil and poetry.