Page One

THE WIFE’S PANTOUM

By Dorty Nowak
Wednesday December 30, 2009 - 08:55:00 AM

I watch the shadows licking at the light, 

His dinner growing cold upon the table. 

Cold nips my fingers and teases at my heart. 

He said that we must talk; will it be tonight? 

  

His dinner growing cold upon the table. 

No words to break the silence in the room. 

He said that we must talk; will it be tonight? 

What have I done, that he has turned to ice. 

  

No words to break the silence in the room. 

Cold nips my fingers and teases at my heart. 

What have I done, that he has turned to ice? 

I watch the shadows licking at the light. 

 

Berceuse 

 

You wake in the night 

with no one to comfort you. 

Can you hear my voice? 

Child, I will sing you the song 

I sang long ago.