It’s cold old man.
“Yes, I remember cold.”
Put on your coat old man.
“Yes, I used to have a coat.
it was green, such a lovely shade of green.”
Here is your coat, it is brown.
“No, not my coat.
My coat is green, like the color of her eyes.”
Whose eyes?
“My darling wife. Where is she?
I have been waiting for her all day.”
Your wife is no longer with us.
“Where did she go?
She told me she would be here.”
Maybe she is outside.
We should go look.
Put on your coat, it is cold old man.
“Yes, I remember cold.”

Ann Christine Tabaka was nominated for the 2017 Pushcart Prize in Poetry, has been internationally published, and won poetry awards from numerous publications. She lives in Delaware, USA. She loves gardening and cooking. Chris lives with her husband and three cats. Her most recent credits are: Ethos Literary Journal, North of Oxford, Pomona Valley Review, Page & Spine, West Texas Literary Review, The Hungry Chimera, Sheila-Na-Gig, Synchronized Chaos, Pangolin Review, Foliate Oak Review, Better Than Starbucks!, The Write Launch, The Stray Branch, The McKinley Review, Fourth & Sycamore.