"Mary Tyler Moore wonders who will write her obituary" by Alex Stolis
- Apr 4, 2025
- 1 min read
will they remember how she needed
to feel the ocean, how it brought her
visions of a lover left behind
in another life, before she was lifted
onto the pedestal. Maybe she wants
to be forgotten,
an unmarked grave, ashes scattered.
Memory left to float then disappear
into ether.
Her ghosts stripped her down to real.
No more need to fake or dream or wish
or want what doesn’t matter or care
who understands. The sky is dismal,
a cormorant calls; the wash of the tide
buries the last of her.
Alex lives in Minneapolis