My Mother The Dancer

My Mother the Dancer

My mother the dancer
cut my tights when I was
in the third grade
to make herself stockings

Sat on the floor of the
living room with me
and made paper dolls
while mold grew on
old pots of spaghetti

Cut my hair so badly
the teacher asked
if she put a bowl
over my head

Sang songs to me
about a rubber dolly
and the hokey pokey
and drew pictures
of girls with long eyelashes

Let me help
wind the yarn into balls
crocheted slippers and sweaters
that shrunk up in the washer

My mother the dancer
dressed up fine on Friday nights
and went out with Irma
and the girls
while my father paced the floor