Though late to wake she quickly moves to start her daily chores
The email shows two orders in, tomorrow would be more
Once printed out she finds her cup and to the kitchen goes
Then steps outside to weed and prune and move the water hose
While cleaning up the clippings she pulls hoses to and fro
Without the extra water most the plants would fail to grow
Back in the shop she starts to get the orders set to print
Then wanders to the hill to pull more weeds around the mint
She comes in through the front door and grabs a bite to eat
Then takes it to the office where she tries to keep things neat
Another order soon comes in while on her site she works
And always in the background, the admonitions lurk
She hears about her laziness, her failure to be neat
She hears that spending money is to bring her to defeat
Yet still she tries to carry on and do her several tasks
Make lesson plans, fill orders and do other jobs when asked
En route now from the bathroom, the laundry fills her arms
She pulls clothes from the dryer as the iron quickly warms
Then back outside she moves the hose and turns the water off
Still hearing voices tell her that she never does enough
Her classes will be starting and she needs new handouts done
Then she sands a pile of boxes and tells herself its fun
While in her head she calculates the profits to be made
She shuts the waiting iron off as plans begin to fade
It’s getting close to dinner time, a meal to be prepared
She checks back on her mental list to see how she has fared
While loading up the dishwasher she feels that she has lost
Accomplishments were broad and wide and yet she missed the most
She sits beside him on the couch, her first rest of the day
Yet relaxation passes by as plans get in the way
Tomorrow if she finds the time the dusting will get done
Build a shelter for the garden to protect it from the sun
Finish up the orders and get them on their way
Tidy up the counters where the piles of papers lay
She drags herself to bed that night, her mind and body spent
Ashamed of all her failures asking where the hours went
As sleep climbs on she hears again the things she hasn’t done
And feels the pain so often come though she has told no one
The shaming statements come to mind just as she falls to sleep
An ugly thought invades her dream, not one she wants to keep
That when her breathing stops and her heartbeat is no more
They write upon her tombstone, “She didn’t sweep the floor”
No comments:
Post a Comment