In Our Town

 

 

In Our Town

In our town twenty women, elderly,
Widows mostly, sit alone at night
Watching television or reading books
Just to pass the time and ward off loneliness,
Dreaming of what has been or might have been,
Of hands that they have held or wish they had.
The next day is the same, and every day.

And in the same town twenty aged men,
Widowers for the most part, sit alone,
Watching television or reading books
Just to pass the time and ward off loneliness,
Dreaming of what has been or might have been,
Of hands that they have held or wish they had.
The next day is the same, and every day.

Nothing changes except that they grow older.
It does seem sad it has to be this way.

If it should be that you were one of these
And somehow you found out that I was, too,
Would you be bold enough to touch my hand?
Would I be brave enough to comfort you?