that anyone with a front
porch
of three steps
in South Philly,
made of marble, had
to get out
there and scrub them on a
Saturday morning, which
is what my mother's
mother did.
with
a bucket of soapy water,
and a scrub brush.
she was in a long dress, usually
black, because
she was always in mourning
for someone.
she went at it
on her hands
and knees, both turning raw
and red,
until it was clean, ending
the work with one
last bucket of water
to rinse, making
a loud satisfying splash.
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