Wednesday, 23 April 2014

Woman dies in fire

Remembering Catherine Novack and others like her

Arms reaching up to heaven,
she's a martyred version of herself -
the dedicated wife, the stay-at-home mom.
Her husband a paramedic,
strayed too far from home,
then blamed his faults on her
with the quick flick of a match.

The family dog lies in its crate,
unresponsive, keeps her company,
the basement their carbon monoxide tomb.
Her once sturdy home caves in
as neighbors wake, think the fire a rising sun,
day exploding into their lives,
bright with mystery,
the word "why" radiating their tongues.

Marital beds uncomfortable from such heat,
neighboring wives toss and turn,
then pace through the halls of their rural homes,
sleep some ghost of itself 
drifting in and out 
of their walls.

©Kristina England
Kristina England resides in Worcester, Massachusetts.  Her writing is published or forthcoming at Borderlands: Texas Poetry Review, Gargoyle, New Verse News, Poetry24, and other magazines.
We do not, as a rule, publish two poems from the same author in the same week, but I felt that the poems were on  a similar theme and of a similar high quality. HM