Tears of the deepest sorrow slowly roll down her wrinkled
     cheeks,
dripping upon her blue faded house coat.
She gasps for air through her tears,
she weeps for her beloved husband,
taken in his restful sleep this early morning.
Sitting upon a hardwood chair that kisses her kitchen's
     wall,
all is quiet except for her uncontrollable sobbing,
that echoes off her nicotine, and smoke-shaded kitchen
     walls.
The ceiling's light struggles to throw its light,
through a thin film of yellow grease,
as a small black and white spider toils  to spin his web
upon the far corner wall next to the soft-humming
     refrigerator.
Outside the kitchen's window illuminated by the
     reflection of the kitchen's light,
a scene like a most beautiful picture,
a purple early evening October's sky,
scattered with small dark gray clouds.
An angel's sweet whisper sweeps through,
with word's of comfort unheard,
the whisper, without a sound, bounces off the streaked
     glass of the kitchen's window
and with the cold wind passes into eternity.
She slowly rises from the wooden chair,
forcing her tired body into a hunched standing position
     with her steady right arm.
She turns to slowly pace into her narrow hallway,
with one hand she carefully braces herself against
     the wall,
where the dark prints of yesterdays past still remain
as her slow feet in pink flowered slippers worn through at
     the toes,
carry her.
Disappearing into the dusty darkness of her warm
     bedroom,
where with the passing lonely nights,
she will await
her joyous day to come.....