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widow hood my
written by: Freddy your favorite writer.
.O no kept in the mournful confinement for fourteen full moons.
The widow pines away in regretful melancholy.
Her courage melting into thin air,
Like the empty promises of her husband's next if kin in droplets.
She releases her bottle worries in the quietness of object solitude
like a sigh I to the air behind the silk cotton tree she slips her matted hair trangling and her black robe shrinking disappointed on her bosom as the horizon does
Leading onto the lonlet village stream to fetch a pot of water
For her lonely evening meal
A slow rhythmic sound of Lamentations shaking her dry crinkled lips.
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