The Pillow

The Pillow, poem, steven james humphreys

I noticed the pillow

was set up on top

of another on my

wife’s side of

the bed

(like when you

sit up and read

and rest your

head on the

back wall.)

I asked her if she

put it up there.

She said I did

when I made

the bed

because she

saw me.

I didn’t remember

doing so.

so, it had to

be a ghost,

the invisible


or my




(or, I forgot. the wife is

always right, you know. that is,

if you want to stay married.

so, therefore, I simply must have forgotten.

Of course, my fault, again… I’m sooo used to it.)


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