Queen-in-Waiting


I have worn mourning many times
I carried her elegantly at least, 
Lace-draped loss. 
In grief I still knew glory -
I held out my sombre skirts,
I knew where to step.

But this constant unknowing
Grasps at my chest -
With each cold breath
A mocking kind of hope,
The entertaining of a ghost
Future lingers.

Each day I dress a maybe
With wordless fabric, 
So heavily weighted -

Elizabeth knows her indecision 
Will cut to the bone
Eventually. 


Copyright LJ Ireton 2023

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