Mary Was An Also
R.B. was the man.
Who knows love’s courting days?
Or if Mary’s bliss was R.B.’s?
Or what of the family ways?
We know the year of birth’s first gasp.
And the year breath slipped away.
But the dash in between tells us nothing of their days.
Someone knew. Did that someone care?
For when they buried Mary also
Did they think her life mattered less than
R.B. who was the man?
R.B. who was the man?
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