Quill Aquiver

The unseen strength of woman,

A child on her hips and a husband on her mind,

With dinner to cook

And a PTA meeting to organize,

It doesn’t even cross her mind,

Those words, “thank you.”

The unseen strength of woman,

Five-inch-heels so sharp

They should really be called a spike,

Matching step for step

The confident stride of

The tailored pant legs around her.

Stumbling is not an option.

The unseen strength of woman,

Bearing the slow insult

Of one gray hair,

Knowing that soon she’ll have to add

Dye to the collection

Of tint and color and paint,

Because the men stop paying

Once youth checks out.

The unseen strength of woman,

With an eye for cloth swaths

And a penchant for fabric

And hands that know another language

Stitched silently across the hem line.

The unspoken sacrifice.

The unseen strength of woman,

Buried beneath a waistline of toil

Or the perfection scraped by

In a perfectly plucked eyebrow;

They pass each other in the street and

One nods to the other,

And both vow

Never to betray the other –

Weary.

Tags: beauty, feminism, feminist, looks, ordinary, poem, poetry, strength, unseen, weary, woman, women