Best Widow Poems

lesson one

i wake up alone
for the first time
the silence is deafening

i want to get up
but every fiber in me
is dead weight

i want to call my...

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The widow among roses,
though a scent so sweet 
she smells to near smile,
how red the vibrance of life
and soft the petals caress
her lonely cheek,
she remembers...

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May stretched its legs into grave.
The thunder heralds the rains.
A hut on the bank of Kanoli canal
Is not re-thatched this year.
Her infant’s illness made the...

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~Summer’s Eve ~


I am a woman!
I am proud-

I am everything you want. 
Plus more
The adoring wife,
A beautiful mother, 
A grandmother a granddaughter 
A daughter, a...

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I know your spirit is finally free 
when I scattered your ashes yesterday 
Cancer has taken you away from me 
solitude is now the price...

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an impression of the world
stands before me
Left is right, and right is wrong, 
and the mirror reflects a melancholy song.

i the mirror
not 
the babbling brook,
or
the...

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Six feet tall, feisty and tipping the scales
Aunt Eva approached life so playfully
Living in the moment, not fretting details

Even at 80 no harsh wrinkles had...

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The tears well up, and scarce could she not moan
When father, brother, husband, all have died.
She now has no possessions, neither home,
But travels to a...

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Fool of Infiniti

A wanton bird pecks at the stars
A Jester peers through crystal bars
This prison of love with rainbow hue
Illusion parts to lets you through

On...

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It’s siesta, yet one can hear from the second floor of the house the animated sharing of juicy news some visitors have brought to the...

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The burial ground,  groomed to greet
the gatherers of their love apocalypse
with garlands grown and sown
from the rose fire of Athena's throne,
on this day they...

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The widow, dressed in glossy black,	
glides from the shadows at the back.	
A veil lies slack across her face	
to mask the grief her features lack.	

Possessed of...

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My heart        a sky of sunny spells
Of passing clouds and  falling tears

Sometimes it shines   ...

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Lingering within

It sits upon my widow sill,
after all of this time,
the Magnolia bloom you sent
Wilted and shriveled,
once the purest white -
now browned with age
Yet what...

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I was a learned meteorologist, studying azure atmosphere and vivid weather,
To give a prophetic daily forecast, like bees gliding remote locales of heather.

Often I had...

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