widow ((unfinished?))

1
the rotting flowers
of the rhododendron,
limp & sagging,
turning ashen
like a drunk
at sunrise -

the malnourished cat
with a sad bell
at its throat,
mistrustfully peering
at passersby.

2
she, in her boudoir,
furtive fingers
nipping,
pinching
at her thinning hair,
watching the muscular clouds
ganging up on the windowpane.

she is comforted by
the layers of dust
over everything she touches.

3
the harrow of evening!
chilly rain,
remorselessly attacking
the shingles -

the attic rattles
with the possibility
of ghosts.

4
the garden, overgrown
with itself,
bulging outward,
spilling over the fence,
clinging to the boles
of knotty willows.

5
in the wet postpartum
of the storm,
the shadows at the gate
shiver,
jiggle the bars,
& slouch off,
defeated.

6
in the ballroom,
a toothless harp
with a tarnished frame.
a chessboard,
one move away
from an impasse.
the fireplace stinks
of cold ash.

7
the wisteria claws
at the side of the house,
vainly stuggling,
heliotropic -

8
she will,
without fail,
stumble through the graveyard,
murmuring eulogies
to her brethren;
runs her fingers,
tremulously,
over her last name
etched again &
again

with her other hand,
her nails tattoo
another name
into her palm.

9
she totters home & sees
her house,
bellowing silently,
blank windows like unlidded eyes
fixed on vague,
faraway mountains.

10
once inside
her ears fizz
with the terrible echo
of silence,
filling the empty rooms
like an odorless gas -