Bad Wife

Rumor is, Prince Charles, now King,
has his shoelaces ironed each morning.
Your mother ironed your dad’s silk undershorts.
I never ironed your shoelaces
or anything at all, haunted by 
my mother bent over a wooden-legged board,
steam iron in hand,
bending fabric to her will.           
I bought wash-and-wear for our children,
never 100% cotton. Their clothes
tumbled carefree in the dryer,
and I sent your shirts to the laundry.
They came back folded and starched.
Was I a bad wife?
Instinct leads us on untrodden paths. 
Never wore an apron like my mother did, 
wiped my grease-stained hands
on the back of jeans. Rocked our third child 
while calculating an analysis of variance.

HARRIET SHENKMAN

Harriet Shenkman, a professor emerita at CUNY, holds the WNBA Writing in Poetry and the Women Who Write International Poetry awards. Her poetry appeared in Evening Street Review, Third Wednesday, Persimmon Tree, and other journals. Two chapbooks were published by Finishing Line Press. She is the Poet-in-Residence at Mid-Westchester JCC.