things up, my mother would
rearrange the furniture.
drag
the broken chair to another
corner,
buy a new sheet
to cover the rips
and tears
in the sofa.
she'd take the picture
of a boat
from one wall
and hang it on another.
she'd wax the floor
on her hands
and knees.
wrap adhesive tape around the frayed
lamp cord.
maybe touch up
the walls with an old
gallon of paint,
not quite the same color.
she'd tape a piece of cardboard
over the bb gun hole
in the window
and take a hammer
to the hinge
of the unclosed screen door.
she might gather a bunch
of daisies from
the yard
and place them in a glass
for the center of the table.
she did what she could,
despite us.
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