Black Days and White Knights
by Leslie Noyes
She wiped down the counter,
Rinsed out the cloth and draped it on the sink’s edge to dry.
At least three times each day, often more,
Her life boiled down to these
Daydreams of white knights,
Daring rescues carried out beneath a watchful dragon’s eyes.
While envious ladies-in-waiting stood, wringing expertly manicured hands,
She never learned their names.
The knights blurred one into another over forty years of drudgery.
And those ladies never amounted to much, married hastily in stiff organza,