THE DUTY OF A WIFE
The only groceries in the house
are rice noodles and a can of vegetarian refried beans.
Raymond would never dream of shopping himself,
in his eyes that is woman's work, of course.
She has no heart for his demands any more.
She has crumbled.
He doesn't talk to her,
just slips out of the dark bedroom of their old farmhouse.
She sits in the rocker by the open window,
piles of unwashed clothes around her,
robe not even closed.
She hears him leave,
it doesn't matter.
The papers stack against one wall, one over the other,
yesterday's crisp on the top.
All cover the bottom one. The one with the story about Etta,
their neighbor's child.
The night Etta disappeared
Raymond didn't come in until 3:00 a.m.
She saw him take the shovel and go behind the barn.
He goes out most nights now.
Sometimes she hears him
scrounging around
in the kitchen cupboard.
Sometimes in the moonlight
she sees him cross to the barn.
Then she thinks she hears something
almost like a cat cry--
real faint like.
It keeps her in her rocker, awake.
The only groceries in the house
are rice noodles and a can of vegetarian refried beans.
Raymond would never dream of shopping himself,
in his eyes that is woman's work, of course.
She has no heart for his demands any more.
She has crumbled.
He doesn't talk to her,
just slips out of the dark bedroom of their old farmhouse.
She sits in the rocker by the open window,
piles of unwashed clothes around her,
robe not even closed.
She hears him leave,
it doesn't matter.
The papers stack against one wall, one over the other,
yesterday's crisp on the top.
All cover the bottom one. The one with the story about Etta,
their neighbor's child.
The night Etta disappeared
Raymond didn't come in until 3:00 a.m.
She saw him take the shovel and go behind the barn.
He goes out most nights now.
Sometimes she hears him
scrounging around
in the kitchen cupboard.
Sometimes in the moonlight
she sees him cross to the barn.
Then she thinks she hears something
almost like a cat cry--
real faint like.
It keeps her in her rocker, awake.
TALKING IT OUT
“In all of this there is deeper meaning,
yet when I want to explain, the words slip away.”
Tao Chin (AD 372-427)
Sometimes only routines open your mouth;
“is there more coffee,
is the dishwasher full,
does the dog have fresh water?”
Any substance floats
somewhere above our room.
Sometimes the things you don’t say
thunder across my afternoon.
Wind and rain pelt exposed ears.
I cannot find your rainbow
in the stillness after the storm.
Sometimes cracks between what
you say hold shadows deeper
than the oaks below our bluff.
I step forward,
not sure if we share a view
or a blind tumble down the bank.
Sometimes, alone on a cold bed
in our dark room I look outside my window.
Beyond the iced-pane, silent stars whisper
things we will need in the winter black,
if only we will heed them.
I am ready to try my words one more time.
“In all of this there is deeper meaning,
yet when I want to explain, the words slip away.”
Tao Chin (AD 372-427)
Sometimes only routines open your mouth;
“is there more coffee,
is the dishwasher full,
does the dog have fresh water?”
Any substance floats
somewhere above our room.
Sometimes the things you don’t say
thunder across my afternoon.
Wind and rain pelt exposed ears.
I cannot find your rainbow
in the stillness after the storm.
Sometimes cracks between what
you say hold shadows deeper
than the oaks below our bluff.
I step forward,
not sure if we share a view
or a blind tumble down the bank.
Sometimes, alone on a cold bed
in our dark room I look outside my window.
Beyond the iced-pane, silent stars whisper
things we will need in the winter black,
if only we will heed them.
I am ready to try my words one more time.
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| Two Poems By Susan Stevens Chambers |
I have served as a Poet in the Schools in Minnesota, Texas, Utah and Iowa. I have presented
poetry, copyright and publishing contract speeches in Louisiana, Arkansas, Indiana, Iowa, Utah,
Florida, South Dakota and Wisconsin. I have been a presenter at Young Writer’s conferences
each year since 1998. I present poetry programs at The Downtown Mankato Kiwanis (2003, 2004,
and 2005); Old Main Village (2003, 2004); Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Mankato (1998 to
present). I have presented programs and poetry critiques for SMPS and LOMP (each year since
1985). I have taught poetry through District 77, Unitarian Universalist Fellowship and Minnesota
State University at Mankato.
poetry, copyright and publishing contract speeches in Louisiana, Arkansas, Indiana, Iowa, Utah,
Florida, South Dakota and Wisconsin. I have been a presenter at Young Writer’s conferences
each year since 1998. I present poetry programs at The Downtown Mankato Kiwanis (2003, 2004,
and 2005); Old Main Village (2003, 2004); Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Mankato (1998 to
present). I have presented programs and poetry critiques for SMPS and LOMP (each year since
1985). I have taught poetry through District 77, Unitarian Universalist Fellowship and Minnesota
State University at Mankato.