Kathy Volk Miller and Marion Wrenn at the Collingswood Book Fair
Portrait of My Mother, Tulsa 1970
& you are thirty again, dancing
with this poem in the kitchen
cutting the oblong rug running
the length of the trailer. Your twist
is all hips, deflecting the stare of the breadbox
whose empty mouth is agape at the way you move
calling "girl, teach me
how to hold onto something, too."
I want to learn that groove, but you say
sons never listen. Dear mother, I assure you
their poems do.
>> The words for next month:
Bucket, Saucy, Cut