A Widow's Life

Early morning, after a night of tossing,

as she passes a mirror on the way to the kitchen,

the widow catches a glimpse

of her bent body and wrinkled face,

pain-etched but with many laugh lines.

She wonders, "Can this be me?

Why only yesterday, it seems,

I ran to the door to meet my husband

at the end of the day,

laughing and full of neighborhood news.

Now, on a bad day, when the roof leaks

and no one calls,

I play a game.

I put on a brave face and my lipstick,

dance alone in the living room to ‘Begin the Beguine,’

and call the plumber for someone to talk to.”

© Peggy Latham, 2011

Bark of aged tree; photo by Tony Russell