Vinegar and Bicarb

By | 1 February 2019

She dusts
she mops
she folds

before the dawn
dressed in white
she stands tall
shoulders down

she keeps
our house
our home


She bakes
she roasts
she steams
makes the place gleam
some more
lest they come
with papers
and combs

with teeth fine
for finding fault
just as they did before
when she was small.

She polishes
she sweeps
she presses
school dresses
like those they
wore in the homes
and on the mish

a uniform
looking swish
with one and all
the same
a wash of white
for clothing
and skin
and tongues
and brain
for pain
now meant to be gone
Though like the dust
it will return.

This is why she cleans.

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