Mum Dancing

I didn’t like my mother dancing:

wearing out the linoleum

on our kitchen floor with frivolity

triggered by something on the radio.

She might have been excused by youth,

but such thoughts don’t occur to a boy

who preferred her loving seriousness

and dedication to him.

Indeed, how could she supply that care

when her feet, and all the rest of her,

were moving to no good purpose

but to get more brothers and sisters?