Squares
her hands
needed something
to fold
something to carry
something to put away
and in the rhythm of repetition
she returned to the woman she was
who remembered she had a husband
and boys and girls
who called her, “Mama”
and she could remember when her husband died
when her children left home
and she could remember the garden in the back
full of fruit and flowers
and how the roses blushed and burned
and she remembered that she was worn
slap to the bone
that soon she’d leave her children
for her husband
and when the last of it
was folded
and carried
and put away
she returned to the woman she was
who could not remember
her name
TL