a woman serves somebody else’s food and
stands by
while they eat her own children sit up
hungry late
irons nice and flat the ruffles on
somebody’s clothes
you didn’t see her she was the color of the
shadow she waited in
she came in the back door early in the morning
back in the honeysuckle days of your
she was young and pretty and had gold
on hands and knees she scrubbed your
floors with a brush
now she sweeps trash from the corners of
your streets
with a broom and a workfare vest

:: Sarah Menefee, I’m not thousandfurs (2002)

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