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The Abject Bed


She couldn't do a thing, could only stare

As the white frocks carried her husband out,

Up from the abject bed at last. Nowhere

Were friends so kind, she heard herself declare

Before the costly funeral; though, throughout,

She couldn't do a thing, could only stare.


She mourned her proper year. But then despair

Was packed away so she could court self-doubt

As, up from bed at last, she found nowhere

Hired one for seeming proper or debonair,

And pay was nil for being the most devout.

She could do nothing! so, she'd sit and stare

At classifieds until her child was there,

Driving her to the store.


                                      Years went that route,

From bed to store and back at last, nowhere

To go but round and round, no need to wear

More than a robe till life was carried out

And she could do her thing, could finally stare

Up from the abject bed, at last, nowhere.


Joshua Mehigan



Reprinted by permission of the author.