She hangs her head, the woman on the bed
her eyes are vacant, as empty as her story;
who is the woman who sits on the bed?
How came she to be, a priori?

There is no label, for the woman at the table
is she friend, sojourner, ghost, or other?
Give her a label, the woman at the table
that explains the stares from one to another.

There comes no reply, just a shrug and a sigh;
no story, no label, neither guest nor ghost.
Where did she come from: where….and why?
She hangs her head, on the bed, ‘gainst the post