Poetry Friday031


 

 

 

 

 

 

Porcelain

I come from a long line of strident women
First born porcelain cleaners.
I have cleaned white bowls for 40 years
if you count the early days when my brothers did yard work
and I polished taps and sanitized alongside Mother.

I tried to levy birth order then
for wrinkled finger tips, upright vacuums white noise, and
dusters made of outgrown undershirts.
Stared with longing out the window for
a clue less obvious than
the flowering buds of my own soft flesh.

Come to think of it,
I denied things long after;
my femininity an afterthought,
broadcast an ‘I Can Do Anything’ mantra like a war shield,
blazing fearless into
life and love.

Life inside me changed everything.
Womb blossoming like a June rose
fragrant with maternity, all thoughts of
equality cracked like the precious hand
of my grandmother’s china doll.
Clarity came with mother’s milk and creation,
my benediction to a long line
of strident women

Lesley-Anne Evans
August 2010

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Poetry Friday021


Porcelain

I come from a long line of strident women
First born porcelain cleaners.
I have cleaned white bowls for 40 plus years
if you count the early days when my brothers did yard work
and I worked alongside Mother.

I tried to levy birth order
for wrinkled finger tips, upright vacuums white noise, and
dusters made of outgrown undershirts.
Stared with longing out the window for budding proof,
a clue less obvious than
the flowering buds of my own soft flesh.

Come to think of it,
I denied things long after that,
my femaleness an afterthought,
assuming an ‘I can do anything’ mantra like a war hymn,
blazing forward fearless
into life and love.

It was life growing inside me that pulled me up short.
Brought me full circle to
unspoken rules, presumptions
and the death
of all things being equal.

Lesley-Anne Evans
August 2010