Poem of the day-Rhina P. Espaillat

Today's poem of the day from the NPF is from Rhina Espaillat (b. 1932) who is originally from the Dominican Republic. Her family was exiled to the US for opposing the Trujillo regime. That bit of history may or may not add an extra dimension to this poem.

I like how so much back story and emotion is delivered with such an economy of words and images. It's also kind of rare to find contemporary poetry that rhymes, at least in my experience.

“Find Work”

By Rhina P. Espaillat

 

I tie my Hat—I crease my Shawl—
Life's little duties do—precisely
As the very least
Were infinite—to me—
—Emily Dickinson, #443

My mother’s mother, widowed very young

of her first love, and of that love’s first fruit,

moved through her father’s farm, her country tongue

and country heart anaesthetized and mute

with labor. So her kind was taught to do—

“Find work,” she would reply to every grief—

and her one dictum, whether false or true,

tolled heavy with her passionate belief.

Widowed again, with children, in her prime,

she spoke so little it was hard to bear

so much composure, such a truce with time

spent in the lifelong practice of despair.

But I recall her floors, scrubbed white as bone,

her dishes, and how painfully they shone.