A Country Wife . . . A Poem

country-woman

 

A country wife

Gravel under her feet

Rain clouds above her head

Wind whipping the willow at her side

 

She walked

She had done it again

 

Most called it cheating

She called it surviving

 

Red nails at her fingertips

Smeared make-up at her eyes

Despite watching the time

It had been an hour of instinct

 

She left him behind

Like every other time

And walked toward home in haste

 

He filled her in more ways than one

Something marriage could not

 

Raindrops – between her lashes

Pasted curly locks in place

Her lips formed an evil grin

She imagined his square handsome face

 

Back into the kitchen

Back to cooking peas

He would get his supper

She would go to bed pleased

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