Four-leaf clover (poem)
Four-leaf clover
When she’s dead they’ll clothe her
False to claim they’d known her
In a room of duty saving hours of light
Mothballs give a church scent
Skirt-clad hips span bench lengths
She slips indoors alive
Why is it not yet over?
Holdouts dare suppose her
Likelier than they to crash in flight
Stalemates smell like sacrament
Bored with it, embrace defeat
She feeds on hoarded years and thrives
What if she’s prim and sober
Ignore but don’t oppose her
She may be the wiser, proven right
She’ll settle for contentment
Judging not, lest she be them
Her story she’ll unleash in time
Four-leaf clover
Apprehensively
(2021, Stephanie Foster)