She was in New York City once with her husband.
He'd been dead a long time, but she remembers
the light between tall buildings and seeing herself
reflected in the translucent glaze of shop windows.

Now she brushes her hair even though it will go
to ash, and she washes her face even though it
will dry and blow away like paper, and she stands
in the kitchen on the girders of her old bones.

Mrs. Murphy lives alone, and when she sees the brave
faces of firemen on TV she thinks of her husband.
He was quiet and strong, too. They danced when
they were young and worked hard for a home.

Mrs. Murphy knows the silence of love and loss.
She sees the flags and wishes for more flags.
She lifts herself up. So be America both good
or bad, a wondrous thing has left the world.

Robert Klein Engler