As the ***** was a virtual paradox,
each man could go to her before
she has seen anyone else, thus she
stayed a ****** throughout the years,
always returning to that bitter evening
when the kindly matron had taken
her in. The fire was warm & soon
she was seeing a string of callers each
of whom spent the whole night; then
again it was that day & finding
her way through the snow to the lit
door was let inside...it was a recent
memory she'd never forget even
she sat at the hot potbellied stove,
waiting for the first knock at the door...