Miss Jenny

While cleaning out her closet

I happened just to find

A grand, old-fashioned fancy box

I’m sure ‘one of a kind.’

Breathless with anticipation,

I knew it must be dear.

Excitedly, I gently placed it

On a table near.

Carefully, the top I lifted

And slowly looked inside.

Then in sorrow, quickly closed it

It’s contents thus to hide.

For what I saw inside that box

Wrenched sadness from my heart.

Engagement ring, a photograph,

Life dreams all torn apart,

A clipping of an accident,

Two persons in the car.

The man had been identified

With a woman from a bar.

The shame and hurt he left her,

Who loved and trusted him

Borne all these years in silent grief

Alone her eyes grow dim.

The years have gone

God whispered in her ear

Stilled aching of her lonely heart.

One final falling tear.

© May Baker Winkel