Classic Poem

DECORATION DAY

She is a washerwoman most of the time,
But to-day she is a widow.
Important distinction which warrants a plaintive manner
And her best black bombazine.
To be sure, she is only a plain widow,
And her husband was a drunkard who ill-treated her,
But she never forgets that it is owing to him that she ranks third in the cemetery,
Next to the war-widows and gold-starred mothers.
She regrets that he did not enlist
Instead of lying about his age and dying coldly of pneumonia,
Until she reflects that he might have returned from overseas and beaten her according to custom.
The thought purges her of envy, and she sprinkles woe-begone, contented tears
On the bell-glass of artificial flowers she lays on his grave;
It is a beautiful offering and has been much admired.
With a blissful sense of bereavement, she bows her head over the bell-glass,
Then rises to totter to the gate on the arm of a friend who has offered to give her a lift home.
In her attic room, she carefully folds the bombazine,
Whispering to herself: “It was a beautiful Decoration Day.”