widows mite

i had meticulously saved some
you will dress up in for this anniversary
each golden tinsel reminds us
all the years you chose to forget
i will float gently beside you
my hand tucked firm between yours
an iota of pain, screwed tightly
inside the balls of my rib cage
hope you won’t clench your fist
if i wave at all the new born’s
who definitely will walk past us
i don’t expect them
to return the gesture
their palms are full of sweetness.

© Chinedu Jonathan Ichu

Facebook poets for world peace james-c-christensen-the-widows-mite1


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