Her hands have washed my children's skin
by Gideon Burton
Her hands have washed my children's skin
a thousand times. Her eyes have traced their moods,
supplying comfort like a healing food.
Her arms have ferried loads of laundry in
and out of closets, washers, dryers. Quick
to clean, and slow to salve a sobbing cheek.
Her skin has flushed with bright and ruddy heat
from ordering our little world. The thick
and thin of rearing offspring, fixing meals,
of stroking fevered foreheads, making peace
amid the rhythmed din that robs our ease
--I haven't known a wound she couldn't heal.
All this, as much as all her youthful glory,
adds chapters thick to this our loving story.Feel free to copy, imitate, remix, or redistribute this poem as long as you give proper acknowledgment of authorship.
You are so very lucky to have each other.
ReplyDeleteI'll stand behind you and testify of her awesomeness. Can we get up on a rooftop and shout it?
ReplyDeleteI think this is my favorite sonnet yet. Beautiful.
my mom = da bomb
ReplyDeleteAwww, shucks. They have washed skin and wiped noses and done some other dirty jobs. But I have loved each and every one.
ReplyDeleteNice! I understand their Dad's pretty great, too.
ReplyDeleteI'm using this in my class today. Gideon, thanks for noticing what typically goes unnoticed in the domestic sphere.
ReplyDeleteI read this 5 years ago and still remember it. I'm using this in my class today. Gideon, thank you for noticing what typically goes unnoticed in the domestic sphere and lauding it. Rock on!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Becca, for commenting and for using my sonnet in your class. I need to get back to writing more sonnets!
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