Ms. Holway and Ophelia

By Audrie Roelf

Ms. Holway

Fragile, lonely widow

Darkened New Hampshire farmhouse

Silent morning, dawn just breaking

Frightened awakening

Strange shadow in the doorway

A jolt of terror with the realization of what may come.

“I’m an old woman,” she croaked.

“You don’t want to do this to me.”

A sinister smile advancing his scheme.

He took his time.

Hands around her throat, invading body and mind.

Shockingly quiet as she lay

Eyes scanning the room – her once safe space.

I must make it through, she prayed.

Until blackness overcame.

She roused, bruised and bleeding

A stranger snoring where her beloved once dreamed.

Small-town Easter morning

And nothing will ever be the same.

Ophelia

Floating flowers in her hair,

Pocket rocks and broken hearts.

Breathe out and let it go.

She for love, I for anger.

Fitful sleep – fighting mind.

Breathe out and let’s rewind.