Thursday Morning
I called my mother
to see how many rugs
she’d shaken today.
–
When you’re in your eighties
shaking rugs is a real
accomplishment.
–
None today, she said,
but she’d planted nine rows of garden
and mowed the barnyard,
all before nine o’clock
that morning.
–
And she was preparing
to clean up and iron a little
before raising the dust
with her red Buick,
heading toward town for
her weekly hairdo.
–
(2004)
I love the poem, particularly the last stanza with “raising the dust with her red Buick.”
She got picked up for speeding in that red Buick! She was one her way here from the farm, in order to head for the U of Iowa where her only grandson was being honored for grades. The patrolman only gave her a warning after hearing her story!
Isn’t that funny!
This reminds me of my own mother. Up before daylight, fixing breakfast, getting plans laid for the day’s activities. Then, when it became light enough to see, she and my dad would be in the garden (summer), weeding, dusting, picking, etc.–“before it gets hot.” Then she’d spend the “heat of the day” in a hot kitchen, cooking, canning, pickling, or whatever!
But, as far as I know, she never got a ticket!
I have Mom’s diaries. I should look up what she recorded for that day!
I absolutely loved this poem!!! Just wonderful…:)
Thank you, Linda.