Window Crack
The casement creaked under the scrutiny of darkness
A lonely candle flickered to the tune of one single log
Unhinged she sat where darkness fell upon her face
Which had grown cobwebs and spider lines over time
It was not so much a memory that cast its shadows
But the onslaught of age and recollection of hardship
Rosemary shuddered at the thought of distant years
Before dementia firmly gripped her ever slipping mind
Outside the stark night resembled her fading essence
Gushes of wind ruminated through cracked openings
Rain pelted at the shutters to the sound of hollow pangs
The frame was as brittle as her shrunken crumbling bones
Beneath a flaky coat of paint the weather had taken its steady toll
Reflected contorted hands nestling under the worn-out blanket
Never again would she be able to get a grip on knitted pride
And the tapestry of life seemed embroidered by lost stitching
She would not hear the rats scuttling near the wooden door
Her eyes too weak to relish in the waning passion of the moon
Rosemary touched upon by eerie storms swayed in her chair
Oblivious to the broken rockers grinding on the floor boards
At the stroke of midnight she startled at the scream on her lips
Licked dry crusts of wear and tear from the angles of her mouth
And succumbed to brittle slumber interspersed with wakening
Braced on the arm rests her hands sought to gain support in vain
Her soul was haunted by yesterday’s clouded remembrance
In which as a young woman she had been battered and bruised
Assaulting sparse threads of joy and happiness never meant to last
To the beat of abuse and violation crushing her feeble resistance
With the grace of sclerotic fortune she was oblivious to the hurt
But deep down subconsciously she was aware of striking injustice
Which left her with window pain set by an aperture of cracked glass
Felt through splintered fragments as she brushed her hands on the sill
Her husband had long died and her children had abandoned her
‘Silly old bat’ they mocked the woman who had given them birth
Fed them and darned socks to set them on a route to independence
Soothed their hurt and put up with their youthful misdemeanour
For one moment lucid enough to dwell on her plight and sorry condition
She imagined herself a princess in the arms of a hallowed saviour
Who would lead her out of misery and barely felt a startling commotion
When her cat jumped onto her sunken lap and gave a distant smile
23rd October 2019
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