Headscarf on tight,
as if stuck down with araldite,
she shuffled into the church hall
on this raw, black evening
her lipsticked lips
smiling the compulsory smile
eyes wildly akimbo.
She nodded at neighbours, friends,
world without end.
she’d made the tea, Freda had the kids.
Fred hadn’t even asked her
how the appointment had gone
leukemia they’d said.
She wondered if she’d soon be dead
don’t be maudlin, she reprimanded herself
her brain flooded with fear
what would happen to the kids, Fred?
She picked up her pencil
rolled the dice:
throw a six to draw the body,
throw a five to draw the head,
throw a four to draw the wings,
throw a zero if you’re dead.
She shook her head
tried to free herself of what she knew
what she feared she knew.
Margaret came round offering tea.
she asked for it strong, sweet,
she tried to concentrate, just couldn’t, 
would she ever play the game again?

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