In my dream when not a light
filled the sky I found myself
peering in through the window
hole of their abandoned mobile
home, another carcass to be
removed to the field, a graveyard
where others like it won’t be
alone; and I thought of her one
last time, the little woman in
her seventies so dutifully cared
for by her husband, her name
Audrey a broken, dying flower
one hardly sees. Even now I
can still imagine her sitting so
patiently inside her room,
a needle held so adroitly in
the air while she sewed,
keeping to herself so quietly.
And one day when there was
no wind I thought I heard her
voice that sounded like a cry
from far away; my heart so
taut I could barely breathe,
knowing deep inside that
kind, tortured man must live
with her day by day. He has
friends two doors down he
hasn’t seen for five days and
he never comes to the next-door
social club like he used to. I keep
thinking he may die himself when
she’s not with us anymore.
——
Bobbi Sinha-Morey’s poetry has appeared in a wide variety of places such as Plainsongs, Pirene’s Fountain, The Wayfarer, Helix Magazine, Miller’s Pond, The Tau, Vita Brevis, Cascadia Rising Review, Old Red Kimono, and Woods Reader. Her books of poetry are available at amazon.com and her work has been nominated for Best of the Net in 2015 and the Best of the Net 2018 Anthology Awards hosted by Sundress Publications. Her website is located at http://bobbisinhamorey.wordpress.com.