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