the house
it was about something else.
the beating of the rug
against the fence.
the way she got on her hands
and knees
and scrubbed.
onto the ladder to get the cobwebs
out.
the windows wiped
with newspaper
and vinegar.
she went at it all day, then
cooked
at the stove.
stirring deep into a mixing
bowl, peering out the window
time after time
wondering when or if
he would he even come home.
No comments:
Post a Comment