Sanctum
in her housework,
every task precise
and thorough.
Moving
in a quiet,
rhythmic
fashion, she used the same
old cloth every week
to
clean the cross on the wall,
the
tops of the doorjambs, the banister leading upstairs.
She always saved
his
room for last,
shaking
out the linens, dusting the furniture,
sweeping the floor.
And
then she would clean the closet,
always
taking particular care withevery nook and cranny, clearing
out the bugs and the cobwebs,
doing
her utmost, always,
to
ensure that everything was as it should be
for her son’s next visit.
~~~
First published in Poem Magazine / May 2014
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