The Bet by Seymour Shubin I guarantee you, he said At the end of his mother’s funeral, That the dead will meet, That they will look in full health To each other, Just as they were. Oh yeah, I thought , and where Do I collect if you are wrong? But that was then and this is now And oh how I miss her And how I want to give His money back. The Bet Copyright 2012 Seymour Shubin Send private commentsOn The Bet to publisher:  editors@artvilla.com Visit the Poem Of Every So Often at https://www.artvilla.com