Alone in my room–
the cowboy gone–
humming to myself
an old church song

A hymn about salvation,
grace, and love–
outside my window,
I hear the mourning dove

I sell my body for
Miss Sarah and Joe,
and the girls here with me
are all those I know

Sometimes we line up
on the steps of the stair–
with face paint on,
pretty dress, coiffed hair

When the men look at me,
I think of my Pa,
and how he would cry
if he knew of them all

Other times I sit,
alone in my room–
I think of married ladies,
and my life in this tomb

Now I’m getting older–
I get chosen less–but
Miss Sarah says that
it’s all for the best