Another Lonely Day

She stretches to turn the light out
For darkness in which to cry
These lonely days,
These while aways,
Refuse to pass her by.

She hasn’t spoken returned words
For many a voiceless week
No whispered tell
Or lustful yell
Not bade nor called to speak

She counts the days for nothing,
But to know the number’s name
One day more
Now fifty-four
With number one the same

A dream of discourse defines the day
Amid her well worn sleeps
Now silence real
At silent meal
Save tear falls as she weeps

Tomorrow she’ll keep another hushed day
But at least she’ll be alive
One day more
Once fifty-four
Now turns to fifty-five.

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