April 28: The Measure of a Mother
What is the measure of a mother
back where you come from?
Must she always be prompt and proper,
not revealing a chink in the armor?
Does she brim with affectionate display,
announce her devotion, come what may?
Can she maintain her looks to a fault,
taking random insults with a grain of salt?
Is she handy with needles and ladles and
labels and phrases and sponges and shovels?
What was the measure of a mother
back in your time and day?
Was domestic help in her employment
a sign of weakness, the neighbors’ amusement?
Would she dare to forget an appointment,
a signed paper, a dab of just-the-right ointment?
Had her instruction been wise, her voice been soothing,
her demeanor bringing forth exemplary offspring?
Did her status require volunteering and
driving and scrubbing and idle-gossip-fearing?
What is your measure?
And is it accurate?
The amount that you mete
will come pay you a visit.