Open Mic Blog

Poem for Mom

Posted on June 12, 2012 at 8:50 AM

A poem in memory of my mother Laura Moore Treacy

                                               

                                                    

Monday

            

           

My neighbor hangs wet laundry in the sun.

             Wooden clothespins turn in her hands.

                     

                    

Like a supple dancer she bends

and stretches her arms over her head.

                    

                  

The clothesline gently sags;

the wind catches the weight.

Her hair floats like milkweed.

                 

                

At night she irons mended clothes

              with swollen hands.

                    

                     

Standing on varicosed legs,

white hair clouds her face.

                 

                 

The hot smell of starch and steam

fills the dark kitchen.

Her windows are painted shut.

                 

                

But in the morning the dancer returns.

             Winds play in her hair.

              

                

Hands become swans;

feet rise en pointe.

                  

                  

A new ballet in the wash of days.

                   

                       

 (First printed in Controlled Burn and collected in Lake Effect)

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3 Comments

Reply Marie Manilla
11:40 AM on June 12, 2012 
Such a lovely poem. This is one of my mother's favorites, too.
Reply patsy dowell
11:58 PM on June 15, 2012 
I like it. Of course, I really enjoy most of your work. This one reminds me of my own writing. Hope the world is doin right by you. Glad that I know you Sister. later patsy
Reply Laura Treacy Bentley
8:53 PM on June 17, 2012 
Thanks, Marie and Patsy. This poem will always remind me of my mother.