Tuesday, May 7, 2013

Sweeping over

She Swept


Day and night she swept ,
night and day she swept the floor
looking for a little bit of hope
for her husband was no more.

Monday was laundry day,
so she hung laundry on the line
telling neighbors she was OK;
they thought she was looking fine.

Day and night she swept,
night and day she swept the floor
looking for a speck of dignity
beyond the safety of her door.

Tuesday was market day,
and the few coins she held near,
were not enough for what she needed;
she clenched them tight in fear.

Day and night she swept,
night and day she swept the floor,
retreating into her little world
with little hope of having more.

Wednesday was a special day,
as she sat mumbling at his graveside,
telling how she'd spent the years
saying she would live until she died.

Day and night she swept,
night and day she swept the floor,
but now she was getting weary
of pushing dust underneath the door.

Thursday passed in a foggy blur
as she swept the floor once more
and she strained to remember his face
but her eyes were tired and sore.


Clutching a broom in her hands,
Friday found her lying on the floor
with gold coins scattered everywhere,
and the sleeping widow swept no more.





mg






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