I have seen the birds bathing in the dust across
the street—
the small brown birds who make do
when it has not rained in weeks.
I send you outside with the hose to give them
water
when you are unoccupied, shiftless, impatient
to eat.
I give you crusts and crumbs and watch you go,
dragging your feet.

I cut the onions, fry the fish, set the table,
pour the tea.
Later I will lie awake and hear
in the dead of night a sound so sweet—
there is no daily yoke I would not bear
for these brief songs that come to me in sleep.

Maxine Cassin
from her book Against the Clock
Portals Press, 2003

Used with permission of the poet’s estate.