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.