When I was a girl

I never washed a dish

Or did laundry

Never mopped a floor

My mother said

Time enough for that when

You are grown

So I did no chores

And never learned to cook, although

Once my mother let me stand on a chair

By the stove

And drop a potato slice

Into a hot skillet.

And once on the train to Florida

The porter gave me a broom

To sweep the corridor

While the rain spattered against the windows

And we raced south.