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Those Hours
poetry [ ]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
by [BettinaKatalin ]

2012-11-09  |     | 




Those hours
when I would sit at the kitchen table
watching my mother cleaning the cupboard shelves,
waiting for my father to return,
from somewhere.
Her cleaning looked desperate,
like her face.
"Once I was pretty", she would say.
Yellow rubber gloves.
I remember.
Me sitting at the table.
Watching her hands.

.  |










 
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