Old Mrs. Mae

Sits and waits for the bus to come
All day and every day
Sits and waits for foreigners
To tell her stories of distant lands
She has longed for so long to see:
The Charles Bridge of Prague
The Ski Slopes of Austria
Or her sister Betsy’s grave in Wisconsin
Frank did not let her go to the funeral
Maybe if she made the perfect bundt cake or
Ironed his shirts properly
He wouldn’t see the woman at the cheap motel down I-76 again
Or come home
Soiled in himself, looking for a reason to-
She knew she always figured out a way to set him off
Even without trying
But Old Mrs. Mae does not know
That bus route was canceled
Long ago
Long before she got the courage
To leave that man
Who never let her stray
40 long years
And so she waits
And checks her broken watch
To tell the broken time
Of her broken life
While she sits and waits
For the bus to nowhere
Tomorrow Mrs. Mae,
Tomorrow.