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| Copyright Rochell Wisoff-Fields |
Edith had stared
Out this window
For nearly 50 years.
Edith had watched
Weather changes,
Children playing,
Family picnics.
Today, fields
Were silent.
Her house was silent.
Edith herself was silent.
Last mourners had closed the door.
The parlor was over-powered with
The scent of roses and carnations.
The table held remnants of
Sandwiches and pie.
Edith did what she always did:
She cleaned up.
Now she stood at the kitchen window.
What
to do? What to do, now?
Edith carried her suitcases
To the car,
Locked the house.
And left.
To where?
She did not know.
This is part of a fiction writing group called "Friday Ficitoneers". If you wish to read some postings, go to This site .
This is part of a fiction writing group called "Friday Ficitoneers". If you wish to read some postings, go to This site .
