The Writer's Voice
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Villanelle for the Forgotten
by
Elizabeth Maua Taylor
She waits, she ponders, hopes, and prays
While dawn has yet to see the light,
That they would visit her today.
Her hands no longer clasp the stays,
The nurse helps her to dress just right.
She waits, she ponders, hopes, and prays.
Through meds and tests and three meal trays
She talks to those who will sit tight
That they would visit her today.
She wonders while she's in x-ray,
Did she miss them? Did they arrive?
She waits, she ponders, hopes, and prays.
The evening television plays.
She sits, anticipation high,
That they would visit her today.
Another sleepless night she stays
To greet the chilly morning light.
She waits, she ponders, hopes, and prays
That they would visit her today.
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