poems & stories of
JIM HAY

VIOLET WINDOW

˙

the man that she married gives her few gifts
just wraps her in misery and pain
he kicks her and slaps her but won’t let her cry out
she knows only smolders, she wants to know flame

the only relief from a day full of shadows
is a violet window in this room where they stay
frayed drapes are a mouth, smeared glass is a smile
dull panes capture pain but have nothing to say

this time she won’t cower, recoil from his slap
he hits her but she pushes him back to the wall
he slips on the rug, through soiled drapes he does crash
the window shatters like leaves frozen in fall

diamonds of glass echo long broken dreams
falling panes release misery to spill through the night
the screaming blackbirds are loosed from her cage
they leave her body on their enraged flight

the violet window, its glass broken and gone
in front of this window a widow now stands
drapes torn and bloody tell what has gone on here
freedom she sees in the blood on her hands

VIOLENT WIDOW

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Last updated on 04 Jan, 2018