Did my mother know,
When she taught me
How to sew,
That one day I would meet
A poor man
Who would
Ask me sweet to
Fabricate
For him, shirts as
White as snow.
Did my mother think,
When she taught me
How to sow
That the only flowers
I would see
Would be
Yellow Marigolds
Elbow deep
In a foam-filled
Kitchen sink.
April 2003 - revised September 2006
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Ah, Josephine: Reminiscing while dish washing. Sounds something like what I was doing in A WRITERS DILEMMA. Read it and I know you will see what I mean. Adeline