A Housewife Unmasked
By day she goes about
the weary business of her dreary life:
a housekeeper, bookkeeper, shopper, chef,
chauffer for two active teens, and
hostess of her husband’s dinner parties
is she.
In the middle of her day
she naps,
for in the night. . .
when her work-obsessed spouse
soundly slumbers
and the kids at last are fast asleep,
she goes into the darkness
of the woods
behind her house.
The mask of this woman
falls without a sound
to the leaf strewn ground.
She raises her face to the moon.
In its light, the stripes
of a tigress are revealed!
Her legs feel strong and limber.
That ferocious appetite
for something that she stifles
flees away
as
she
runs.
Among the pines and midst the sounds
of the woodland’s crepuscular creatures
she runs and runs and runs.
She is running after something
she cannot put a name to.
She’s a good woman.
She would never use a bar or night club
as her jungle.
Now - with her tigress face -
swift, stealthy, and strong -
but above all,
not beholden to any body
she is simply free to be.
After an hour of running,
the mask of the housewife
is restored.
Then she collapses, exhausted on her bed,
where she dreams refreshing dreams -
which are necessary -
for tomorrow
she begins again
the weary business
of her dreary life.
10/26/2014; Now used for Skat's A poem you are proud of #3 Poetry Contest
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