My daughter’s clothes tumble through the wash

While the world outside clings

To the notion of roles and domestic titles

Ignoring the pragmatic

So much remains to be done

And none to do it but the mother

Breadwinner, homemaker, emotional laborer

For without that, the world would crumble

The convenience of machines

To simplify our “work”

The freedom to leave home

To pursue an income

More than double the work of what we used to carry

While men remain heroes

for the simple act of existence

My mind wanders

travelling several paths

as clothing spins to cleanliness

The cheerful thrum

of domestic life

That we have carved out in our own way ~ Caroline A. Slee