Small Town Girl

For Raymond.

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The jewel of the town
since he left;
sunshine bright,
boundlessly cheerful,
magnificent in her youth,
burnished, beautiful in their love.
Always with news of him, stories of he and his,
shared from their last time-rationed conversation
from over there.

His photo proudly in the front window
confirming them to the world,
smiling, not yet too thin,
in that funny self-conscious uniformed pose
reserved for semiformal officiality.

Happy, simple tales, mailed cookies,
photos received and sent,
talk of changes when he returns,
a move perhaps, maybe promotion.
New life and smiles, always smiles,
butterfly gentle in their faith.
And, behind them, unspoken, the soft words, promises,
voiced kisses, telephone caresses, reassurances,
tender shared memories.

Her stories grow with her waist
and we echo her bell-like laughter.
Pleased by the privilege of sharing such contentment,
we trade smiles over the intricate simplicity of full-blossomed love,
think ourselves blessed to be so dewed with her simple happiness
and pray silent petitions for her Love.

Yet,
last week,
the falling black of official car,
the pouncing knock, sincere formulated sympathies.
Now, blinds drawn against the harrowing day,
menacing phone and scowling door unanswered,
the photo shrine one missed sticky tape corner,
brooding the frail shield of faith
and the careless, banal treachery of innocence,
she walks in silence the dark remembering hours,
companied by their wondering dog,
his last love quick in her widow’s womb,
and her abrupt, brittle tomorrow.

Oh, that she could see our tears, too.