The Prisoner's Wife
Poem by Mary Spain
She sits there, fingering her wedding-ring
With restless hands, while counsel for the Crown,
Urbane and skilled, concludes his questioning.
She listens, keen and anxious, quick to frown
At each obtrusive sound that might distract
The judge's ear. They speak of violence
In passive tones, as men play out an act
They've played before; where one man's innocence
Or guilt is held contained within the scope
And framework of the law. Did this man kill?
I watch as one apart, untouched by hope
Or senseless craving for revenge, until
I see the words: 'Imprisonment for life',
Inflict their sentence on the prisoner's wife.
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