Abandoned

Abandoned

“poor dear” They whisper
in voices softer than
chiffon shifts.

“all alone” They mutter
in voices graveling over
sandpaper hands

“hes gone” She weeps
in voice choking and gargling
on hot tears.

They sit and stare with blank,
wet eyes. Their sympathies
washing over her like Noxzema
on a hot face.

They wring their hands. The words
poordearallalonehesgone
echoed in her head, numbing
the searing sting of grief

Suddenly, it had been too long.
The pas de deux of chiffon
and gravel sang as it danced away,
“So terribly sorry” “Anything we can do”

And left her to mourn alone.