Samantha, by Edward Albee
They weren't with me
When I was taken in to die.
They were in Spain.
They lay on a bed in Grenada
With the phone to their ear
And they cried when they told them,
Cried into the phone.
I know that much.
I was kept for them
Curled in a frozen sleep
Until they came back.
They dug a hole then
(He and his friend dug a hole then)
On the point, by the ocean
Where all the others had been laid:
Poochie, Jennifer, Harry, Andrew, Jane,
and the cats
Cunegonde, Sarah, Leslie, Dorothy, Jake.
They dug a hole and put me in it.
Gentle Diane, the potter,
Baked clay biscuits for me
(Very Egyptian for an Irish Wolfhound. . . .
. . .but nice.)
I liked being with all the others,
On the point, by the ocean,
Especially Andrew, especially Jake.
I wonder -
- when it comes time
For the diggers, for gentle Diane,
Will they be put here too?
On the point? By the ocean? With us?
I hope so.