lonely ad

hiding in the reference section of the library
secluded, between dusty tomes and
sloppily written biographies
filled under T & cross referenced you’ll see
a book that has never been loaned

a personal ad that’s ran for 34 years
a woman waits for a reply
and in that time
her mathematician father
died
and was buried with an equation
etched on his chest
for her to solve the crime

the numbers have changed
the colours faded
but the word still runs the same
birds perch on the window pane waiting
for the rain
while worms eat at his bones
that lay in the casket

The lonely ballad
of an unread ad

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