Sunday, November 30, 2008

Second Hand

[This was written in response to a prompt on Cafe Writing's Jewels Project.]

Second Hand

She had what she needed,
a paid-for house,
a new car and a golf cart,
and enough money to last
her whole retirement.
a roof over her head,
a pickup truck in good shape,
and enough extra for
a vacation once a year.

Every week
she tried to stay
out of the way knowing
she would do it differently
if she cleaned it herself.
she pulled up in the truck
to dust and sweep
and mop and wipe as if
it were her own place.

And then
she heard her cleaning woman
had multiple sclerosis
and would have
her doctor told her
she had M.S.
and was advised

to stop working.
She gave away the
fur coat she had not worn
for years.
She tearfully said
goodbye and accepted
the generous gift.


Anonymous said...

First, you're certainly prolific this weekend! Such great stuff you're sharing so we can read!

Second, while I tend to prefer prose, this poem is my favorite of your recent CW submissions. I love the structure, and the content.


sister AE said...

Thanks, Melissa. I am surprised at my output, myself! The content of this just begged for this format. I'm glad you like it.