Widow rules are fluid

Three years they say

A corner to be turned

 

Still wearing the rings

Twirling on and off

Almost everyday

 

Clothes are gone

Papers are sorted

His boots rest in the barn

 

Almost out of sight

With pictures helping

Our one-way conversations

 

I can’t do the rings

Like a dead dog I will

Miss them all the time

 

I chance being out of the game

Unavailable should someone

Try to love me again

 

Weighing the risk cost

Not choosing to be unmarried

I keep them where they belong