A Widow’s Winter Wail

Cold gray settles upon the prairie.
Winter’s approaching in endless train,
Stretching its frosted fingertips
Through the severed stalks of grain.
I hear the rumble of each freight car
And can neither embrace nor abstain,
Caught in numb paralysis
By the biting jaw of pain.
Voicelessly, I loose my lament;
The empty fields hear me complain
And lay in motionless apathy
Down every hill and lane.

I search for the warmth I’ve known,
The tender hands, but the world is not the same.

In my empty bed, I reach for him,
The husband of my many years.
I stretch my icy fingertips,
In half-sleep, I feign him here,
But the uncrushed pillow stands resolute
He will never again appear.
I wander through the coming cold
A stricken child who stumbles, veers,
Careens into each obstacle
Searching for who I once held dear
But the absence of all that once was there
Is the void that interferes.

And the precipitous coming of the cold
Threatens snow upon my tears.