Melinda Thomsen
Washing Dishes
As my mother left
her kitchen, she stashed
latex gloves in her purse
then spun toward me,
a whirligig glaring,
Are you single because
your father sexually
abused you growing up?
Water scalded my hands.
Her refrigerator stank
of rancid meat, soured milk
and rot in crisper drawers.
I focused on rising suds,
letting the faucet run
steam up the window until
plates nestled to dry.
To get her help, I brought
my mother to my session.
The therapist asked her,
Don’t you see how much
you are hurting your daughter?
My mother didn’t answer.
I kept scraping dregs
off spatulas, lipstick
from mugs, and dumping
muck down drains, but each
year led me toward this:
a view of squirrels darting
up pines as I turn on our tap
and reach for a sponge.
Melinda Thomsen is the author of Naming Rights (Finishing Line Press, ) and Field Rations (Finishing Line Press, ). Her poems have appeared in Stone Coast Review, Tar River Poetry, The Comstock Review, and North Carolina Literary Review, among other journals. She is an advisory editor for Tar River Poetry and teaches composition at Pitt Community College in North Carolina.
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