by Donna LaFollette
After a full day of work and evening chores
Late in the night as the silver spring moon
Illuminated the golden daffodils
Mom hunches over the mahogany sewing machine.
The Singer light cast a glow
Of concentration on her face.
The needle, darting like a wood pecker,
Reflecting from her tortoise-Shell glasses.
Resembling a practiced musician, she
Accompanies the flip of the pressure foot
With a swirl of yellow dotted Swiss.
She presses the lever with her knee,
And the machine whirls and hums,
Propelling a cascading river of gold material.
Abruptly, the whine of the motor stops.
Mother bends closer and bites the thread,
Separating the creator from the creation.
Born now my easter dress, a labor of love.
Link: Women Who Wright – Louisville