Widows' Gossip


The only time she laughed out loud
was at the next-door renters, who
stopped in to leave a sponge cake, pay respects.

Not much past twenty-five, I’d guess,
in backless tops and shorts no less, 
they trembled chins over their perfect breasts

as I imagine poodle dogs
would do, if told to sympathize.
A shame we didn’t know him more, I  thought

we’d hear them weep, you know, how all
the casual mourners usually say
to the bereaved. She hadn’t met them yet,

or socialized. It had been hard
to get away those last few months,
with Arthur’s health declining like it was -- 

the only time she though he left
her sight was to walk down the drive 
and get the paper every afternoon.

So we were nearly scandalized
when they said that the cake was one
that Arthur used to love for them to make,

when he stopped by to say hello -- 
Why only yesterday he’d checked
their gutters for the second time this week!



Ali Fischer