Utterances Are Short and Direct

Memories Of Hardtimes

Ice jackets the windowpanes
water in the teapot is frozen.
Mother stands in the kitchen
tosses coal into the stove.
Pearl buttons show off
her hand-knitted sweater.

Reddish hair juts from her hair net,
green eyes flicker like marbles
as she greases an iron skillet
cuts a slab of bacon and cracks eggs.
I delight in her charismatic grin
freckles and rosy skin.

Bite my lip to keep from chattering.
Utterances are short and direct
it’s to early to chitchat.
Her days are full of sewing and washing clothes
no breaks until bedtime.
Her family are her gems.

Ice on the panes begin to melt,
forms palaces, ice ponds, dancing skaters
mother in a satin robe
demanding eggs over-easy
as she adjust her diamond crown.


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