Spring Cleaning

Spring Cleaning

Tippy toeing around the house

After the cook stove’s fires had been doused.

Were three children captured in play,

Staying inside because it was no school today.

Mom in her apron working in other rooms,

Cleaning the windows, and sweeping the floors with a broom.

“Come in here you three,” she often called out,

“Gather your things, I don’t want you to pout.

It’s spring-cleaning days for me and for you,

While you’re here with me and out of school.

No destination or vacation was ever mentioned,

Because there was no money for such undertakings.

With dust pans in hand, we three stood watching,

Waiting to scoop up the dust, our hearts throbbing.

It happened about this time each year,

When soapy water, mops, and brooms would appear.

“It’s good to change things,” she often said,

But for us three kids, it was something to dread.

Dirty water in buckets sloshed when being emptied,

Out in the backyard, battles being tempted.

Being warned to not get into fights,

We rushed to dump the water with mom insight.

“You boys hurry up now!” she’d call out again,

“We got to finish up soon!” resounded Mother hen.

Time waits for no one, watching each one slip away,

Gone are the cleaning rags, buckets, and times of play.

Gone are the floors, windows, and silly front yard fountains.

Gone is the house needing cleaning way up in the mountains.

For Astrid