Widows of War
There’s an ache
In the stomach
In the soul
Of the widow
Who leans
Against her window
Weary from
The day
Her weeping
A whisper
So her children
Won’t wake
After she tucked them
Into bed
On her own
Again.
There’s an ache
In the stomach
In the soul
Of the widow
Who leans
Against her window
Weary from
The day
Her weeping
A whisper
So her children
Won’t wake
After she tucked them
Into bed
On her own
Again.