(broadcast on radio--”Personal Poetry”, Washington, D.C., March 31, 1968)

My last thoughts were of things long past-
A little girl strolling with her dad,
of all the things she could have had
if Death, in disguise, hadn’t claimed her dad.
And finally (after all these years) Death sought the girl.
Lying in my bed, I saw him come through the door.
He isn’t very choosy; he takes both rich and poor
He helped me to get on my feet; pushed me through the door.
You know life is but a lengthy play and I was in the cast.
If you’ll check the births and deaths, you’ll surely find my name
but, there are others beside me whose role was just the same,
to live, to love, to laugh, to cry with a not-so-well-known name.
Yet, my role was a fairly good one filled with not-so-well-known raves.
Yes, we each must play a role in life ‘til Death leads us to our graves.