I Stop Folding the Clothes: Surrendering to Poetry

Wait a minute.  What kind of a mother would I be if I sat here all day folding pink and black leotards and hanging Easter dresses on hangers?  A boring one, that’s what.  Girls, there are things you must surrender to, and on occasion, that includes your creative passions.  I think Tess Gallagher would agree.  Here’s my rearrange.

I Stop Folding the Clothes

to write the poem.

No matter who lives or who dies

I’m still a woman.

I’ll always have plenty to do.

I weave the words of these lines

together; nothing can stop this

ecstasy.  I’ll get back to the clothes,

I’ll get back to being a woman.

But for now, there’s a river,

a rushing river in my soul

waiting to be penned;

and somewhere a small girl

standing next to her mother

watching to see how it’s done.

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