Knock on Wood

At ninety-two my widowed sister
danced the hoochy-kootchy.
A minor stroke caused her to limp.

Undaunted, she stretched,
bent, rotated, lifted. It was then
she fell and broke her hip.

Our bother, eighty three,
composed a psalm—dedicated
to his two wives, present and ex,

both deceased at seventy seven.
Now brother, following a stroke,
can’t remember where he put his socks.

I’m eighty five and sold a painting
of myself, bare breasted,
ogled by my husband, eighty two,
featuring his voluptuous back.

Lucienne Wald is a member of the Madwomen in the Attic workshop. Read more about Wald and the workshop here.