KandiPrincess
Bluelighter
My mom (rip) read me this poem when I was younger all the time. It brings alot of happy memories. I always ask people to read this poem, and tell me what it means to them and what do they think this poem means =)
How she left kettles of water
On the kitchen stove for baths
Each Saturday night till hotter
Than needed (add cold) , to wash,
In the corrugated tub,
The week's field dirt away,
Blown even into the crib
From a North Dakota sky.
How all of us take turns,
The young mother renewing
Clean heat for each till it runs
Out, as she's finishing hers.
I offer you her kettles, stove,
The kerosene-lamp light
Her palm her soap her olive.
The tub,its velvety silt
How she left kettles of water
On the kitchen stove for baths
Each Saturday night till hotter
Than needed (add cold) , to wash,
In the corrugated tub,
The week's field dirt away,
Blown even into the crib
From a North Dakota sky.
How all of us take turns,
The young mother renewing
Clean heat for each till it runs
Out, as she's finishing hers.
I offer you her kettles, stove,
The kerosene-lamp light
Her palm her soap her olive.
The tub,its velvety silt
