The Soldier's Widow

She panics that the sun is gone again

she’s more stressed in the night for

her pains rest in the day time

and rise with the set of the sun

and she mourns till the morning comes

She’s happy that the cocks crow again

she’s long gone out of bed for

her pillow has turned to a stone

and her diary has turned to her daughter

for she had breastfed it with a bucket of tears

She smiles that the mailbox is heavy again

she wants to hear from her partner

and December is just few days from now

and he must be hungry to eat from her pot

as she feels the same

She cries that the mail delivery is wrong again

she’s not the only Mrs. Roberts in the world

and if a Roberts has swallowed a bullet

and the mail insists carrying her home

she’ll then swallow a grenade

She sat with the neighbours even though

She had no seat to welcome their condolence

And the coffees that turn cold

And her tummy that go dry

Made no noise in her ears

She mourns, being a tree without seed

Standing alone in the desert

And only the sun knows

How well it burns her skin and her leaves

Dry up for her branches to nest birds

But she put her trust in the mailbox that went heavy again

And she wants to see his feet climb down the train again

And the pains keep trailing her every thought

But she pressed on to pick from the open box

And didn’t care to close her door when she bounced in with her pains

With the letter in her grasp

She’s figured out a story to send to her great grandmother

That their daughter is finally on a train

So bid her welcome

Even though it’s not yet time

And the cockroaches

And the rats and the poppy

And the ants

And the geckos

And all the birds in the garden

Shall miss her but they should please

Not miss the soup

And the beverages

And the breads and cakes

And all the food in the freezer and those junks in the garbage

And she let the gas hiss from its cylinder

And pulled a match from the box

And went to watch her favorite movie

And cried when Annie was thrown from a five-storey high balcony

And landed in her father’s arms

And she got up haven filled her tummy

With her favorite soup though without her will

And scratched the match against the side of the damp box

But it gave no sign as she stood in front of the stove

And cried why the stove could not auto ignite

She dashed outside angrily and went straight

to the neighbors to have a match box

but the fair-hearted woman gave her the match box

with the company of a letter, a letter from the North

signed by Mr. Roberts and assigned to Mrs. Roberts

and she fell and hit her head

on the tiled floor of the neighbors

and she understood she fell on her neighbor’s floor

but only saw herself in the clinic

with Mr. Roberts her husband

beaming a smile at her and also

on the piece of paper in his firm grip

that had a report that said

she’s a mother of twin,

when it’s nine months

-

Mr. Roberts had narrated to his Mrs.

How a fellow soldier was identified in the field

With his life shot out of him

And Mr. Roberts purported to be the man

Only was headed home for the vacation to meet his Mrs.

© 2018 Ebizimor Boloukie