Grace babygrosToday I am Lady Macbeth
For there is villainy in my housewifery.
A desire for raw cleanliness:
A house, preternaturally starched,
White, blank, void.
Ghosts flapping wildly outside,
But fresh.
And now you.
Jammy little hands and molton eyes.
Crayon marks adorn the spaces
Once filled with fear.
You smile and the ghosts are
Still.

You help me to take down
The washing.

About Francesca Keayes

I am a teacher and mother of two small children. Motherhood has brought both challenges and wonder to my life. Through MeWe, I have used poetry to address more the challenges faced, particularly the loneliness experienced in a difficult relationship whilst trying to maintain a sense of self. It i…Read more

One Response to “Traveller”

  1. Char March

    Really enjoyed this, Francesca – and your exhausted poem too. Really heart-rending!

    Reply

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