Widow's Weeds
by Sharmagne Leland-St. John

She packed away her widow's weeds
then donned a frock of subtle grey;

thus her mourning ends today.
The yellow seemed far too bright,

and scarlet ribbons not quite right,
the royal blue a tad too tight.

The grey reminds her of the night
when silently–he slipped away.


for Richard Sylbert
      in my heart forever
 

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