sixwords

Sestina for a Mom…. - by Mike

She grabbed up the old broom by the handle,
swishing up crumbs and a mysterious looking orange peel.
Listening to the washing machine hum
and poking at dirt piles with the toe of her boot,
she wondered what always made the sweepings crunchy,
but worried that, in the end, her work was not vital.

She often struggled with the urgent need to be really vital.
Who could ever say that insignificance is an easy role to handle?
The daily grind, the obligatory manufacturing of peanut butter sandwiches (crunchy)
and the measuring of her days in discarded banana peels
and complaining from the neighbors, and from the children to boot,
left her feeling that, in general, her life was at best, ho-hum.

But, if laughter is the best medicine, she could at least manage to hum
and have a glance at the ever nagging errand list for anything vital.
Someone needs school supplies, and another has lost his boot.
A typical day, and nothing she can’t handle.
She considered that, just once, she should make the van tires peel,
but satisfied herself instead with making her cereal a little extra crunchy.

She generally enjoyed her breakfast, especially the crunchy
cereal. Finding a brighter mood, she continued to hum
the tune now firmly stuck in her head. She spied yet another rotten peel
left in the corner by someone obviously far too vital
to stoop down and grasp the garbage can by the handle.
She briefly considered giving that someone a boot.

But she, after all, is the veteran, and not some young boot
too squeamish to touch things moldy, rotten or crunchy.
These were always mom’s noble task to handle,
regardless of her mood or the tune she chose to hum.
Or even whether anyone considered her role vital,
though she’d never understand the reaction to an old peel.

Someday, perhaps, she would make those tires peel,
or give that someone a boot
and point out to the whole wide world that she, the Mom, is truly vital.
And that satisfaction takes a little more than cereal, (even the kind that’s crunchy).
But for now, she would content herself with the quiet hum
of her laundry and another day to clean, shop, organize and otherwise handle.

Being recognized as vital, rather than discarded like an old stale peel,
is how we all handle the mundane chores of life. Like searching for a lost boot
or making yet another crunchy peanut butter sandwich. And don’t forget to hum.