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.
© Reprinted by permission of the author.