were strong.
i remember watching her
twisting a wet towel
in the cool sun before pinning
it to the clothes line
in the yard.
then our dungarees,
our sheets,
our socks and shirts.
she said nothing
as she bent over, pulling
one heavy piece of clothing
after the other,
twisting the cold water out
with no complaint.
if alive, i'd imagine
her chagrin at all the women
her age, the age she was then,
lifting weights,
rowing
and stretching
riding bicycles at the gym.
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