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,
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
Comments
Post a Comment