Budgeting: February 1963
by Carol Wolrich
two ends meet around the other
of a long week, without fraying,
losing the hungry threads. Nudging
debt into tomorrow, because yester-
is about to knock, and there's no
to hide the boys in silence. Besides,
glass in the front door is clear
to see through your excuses.
you will forget about new stockings,
is no great hardship, these days;
Saturday night's ironing stacked
your dreams of dancing. The fire
at its lowest ebb, sapped by
power-drain on the National Grid,
you hear on the wireless that a
lady poet has taken her own life:
thirty-one with two small children.
have three, including the baby.
weep into your frightened hands.
with no phone. Hours to endure
he comes home, in the dark.
steal from the rent to feed the meter.
follows the news, and a song
you to remember - summer.
©2007 Carol Wolrich
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