Sorrow is my own yard (1)
Although it doesn't make a big entrance, isolation has already slipped in the door. What is a yard? Well, it's a space around our house that sits between us and the street and the neighbors. So already we have a little mental image of sorrow creating a buffer between our speaker and the world.
Thirty-five yearsI lived with my husband. (7-8)
This heartbreaking little statement drives home just how alone our speaker feels. For thirty-five years, there was someone else in the house. Now, there's no one.
Today my son told me (20)
Wait a second, she has a son? Where did he come from? (Does she have a daughter too? More sons? Grandkids?) What's really surprising, and sad, about this line is that there is so little to-do about the son. The fact that her son is around and speaking to her doesn't seem to bring her out of isolation at all.