Auckland Poetry

The Widow  

  The man on the trolley was fully dressed he had died in the street and brought in to the hospital; his face at ease wasn’t peace but nothingness, a story yet to be invented. His wife had arrived, looked at his face and said: “a good man always saved money for the day he could retire, he had so many plans, today he went to cash his first pension check.” Her life hadn’t be easy, always watching the pennies and it struck her that now she could go buy a new dress, coat and shoes, for the first time in years; but would she? After years of saving money it had become a habit hard to brake, and then the children, grown up now, but they would come wanting money. “You cheep bastard, she murmured angrily, you made my life a misery and when no one looked slapped his face… hard.    

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