All my homework was done with the care of a boy
without a girlfriend. My mother would help me

with all she could, but the purple ditto-sheets
only reminded her of the college she left behind

for my father. Sometimes I would help her
until she understood the new math

or the purpose of a preposition. She'd say
how happy she was I was learning so much

then tell me what Erica was up to on All My Children
or how many times neighbor Chuck had come over

to invite her to his Sunday service. I remember
sitting in my room one night staring at my Pee-Chee folder.

There were only two women among all the men.
The woman on the front hung mid-air, smiling,

tennis racket swung across her body while her hair flew up
as if she was actually prone to gravity. She had hit that ball

so hard it wasn't anywhere in sight. On the back
a woman sat grinning on a ski lift. The breeze

blew her hair back and her gloves and glasses
protected her from the cold wind. She was

the only figure on the folder far enough above the earth
not to cast a shadow. My mother yelled from the kitchen

that dinner was ready. I dropped the folder
onto my bed and arrived at the table

just in time to see her slicing the meatloaf,
steam rising from the casserole dish

fogging her eyeglasses completely.
She couldn't see anything, but she served us all

and I knew she said grace under her breath
before tasting another day of this life

as it crumbled over her tongue.  

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Robert Wynne earned his MFA in Creative Writing from Antioch University. He is the co-editor and publisher of Cider Press Review. He is the author of five chapbooks, most recently Imaginary Ekphrasis (2005, Pudding House Press). He has won numerous prizes, and his poetry has also been published throughout North America. He lives in Fort Worth, TX, with his wife and daughter.
E-mail: robert.wynne at sbcglobal dot net
Websites: http://www.rwynne.com
http://www.ciderpressreview.com/  

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