This Work We Do

by A Michigan Skylark

Though Slim and Jess often grumble about housework (and find humor in it), they're serious about it, take pride in it, and they never denigrate it. I love this about them. But this particular poem is written to honor the women - both those who ride and "those who wait."

This Work We Do

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Some stay behind,

stack the plates and sew the buttons on.

This job of work—plain and sound and ours—

keeps the lariats swinging, keeps

the floor firm beneath their boots and

tired feet from the damp,

keeps the pillows sweet

to close their eyes against.

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The fire is lit, the chimney sends its message out:

home, here

is home.

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These eyes that watch a kettle can sight

a gun; those hands that bend the wire

can knead the dough. This work we do

is not an afterthought—the other work

is not the day entire.

There is no rope without a loom,

no voice shouted raw without the cup

held beneath the pump, no hammer

without a broom, no rest

without first the folding.

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Sweep the range for strays and the sky

for stars. Bridle and needle,

washboard and rifle,

the riders and those who wait,

both brace these walls, drive the cold

back into the night,

keep the space beneath the door

filled with light.