I ironed the shirts,
The collars and the cuffs.
I was careful around the buttons.
I was a woman standing
At the ironing board, 
No matter who fell from the sky,
No matter how many wars were happening.
I hurried and sweated under 
My night gown.
I cooked and cleaned and loved
No matter what the politics.
I was a woman.
Here I folded laundry,
Held the sleeves together,
Smoothing them down.
The tenderness of care, for love
No matter what happened
Out there.
The babies came.
I pulled a plan for a thousand
Suppers from my brain,
And little girls stood by me
To see how it was done.

©April 22, 2025

Diane E. Dockum