mother
standing on a chair,
with old towels and sheets
on the floor
to collect the dripping
water
as the ice melted.
she chopped away
at the ice in the box,
the thick
layers of white frost.
slowly she chipped
away at
a small version of
the north pole.
she seemed to enjoy it.
a meditation of sorts.
getting it all
clean and shiny once
more.
tossing in the bags of
peas
and carrots
and ice trays at the end.
Tupperware containers
full of red sauce,
stuffing
the cold bin full
of wrapped meats,
before she closed the door.
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