Widow

I watched that wife
Stand, grieving, proud.
Her rage held like a standard,
High, visible,
Terrifying in its intensity.

That wife
Pulled on her widows weeds.
She walked slowly
Behind the hearse,
Tears streaming and hair wild.

This wife
Fashionable in black.
Where is the hearse? she wails,
Where is his body?
Tears streaming and hair wild.

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