Window Crack

The casement creaked under the scrutiny of darkness A lonely candle flickered to the tune of one single log Unhinged she sat where darkness fell upon her face Which had grown cobwebs and spider lines over time It was not so much a memory that cast its shadows But the onslaught of age and recollection of hardship Rosemary shuddered at the thought of distant years Before dementia firmly gripped her ever slipping mind Outside the stark night resembled her fading essence Gushes of wind ruminated through cracked openings Rain pelted at the shutters to the sound of hollow pangs The frame was as brittle as her shrunken crumbling bones Beneath a flaky coat of paint the weather had taken its steady toll Reflected contorted hands nestling under the worn-out blanket Never again would she be able to get a grip on knitted pride And the tapestry of life seemed embroidered by lost stitching She would not hear the rats scuttling near the wooden door Her eyes too weak to relish in the waning passion of the moon Rosemary touched upon by eerie storms swayed in her chair Oblivious to the broken rockers grinding on the floor boards At the stroke of midnight she startled at the scream on her lips Licked dry crusts of wear and tear from the angles of her mouth And succumbed to brittle slumber interspersed with wakening Braced on the arm rests her hands sought to gain support in vain Her soul was haunted by yesterday’s clouded remembrance In which as a young woman she had been battered and bruised Assaulting sparse threads of joy and happiness never meant to last To the beat of abuse and violation crushing her feeble resistance With the grace of sclerotic fortune she was oblivious to the hurt But deep down subconsciously she was aware of striking injustice Which left her with window pain set by an aperture of cracked glass Felt through splintered fragments as she brushed her hands on the sill Her husband had long died and her children had abandoned her ‘Silly old bat’ they mocked the woman who had given them birth Fed them and darned socks to set them on a route to independence Soothed their hurt and put up with their youthful misdemeanour For one moment lucid enough to dwell on her plight and sorry condition She imagined herself a princess in the arms of a hallowed saviour Who would lead her out of misery and barely felt a startling commotion When her cat jumped onto her sunken lap and gave a distant smile 23rd October 2019