The Exercise Class
Grace Burns lives in Central Jersey and is mother to 2 children. She is an automation/validation engineer and a self-proclaimed technical writing diva. She is also a mobile DJ and has witnessed dozens of beautiful marriages. Grace is the hostess of an epic and lifelong battle being waged between the left and right sides of her brain. She recently discovered that creative writing is the best way to get the two sides of her brain to play nicely together. Her poem today sheds light on a whole list of dark subjects: conformity, value, acceptance, oblivion, self-awareness, expectation ... the list is long my friends. And the poem resonates.
The Exercise Class
By Grace Burns
The First Mother tightens her glutes and groans,
"Now that summer is here,
my house is crawling with David's friends.
They swim in the pool and order pizzas.
This happens almost every day!"
The Second Mother crunches her abs and moans,
"Now that summer is here,
we're hardly ever home!
My three sons play on five different teams.
We never eat at the dinner table!"
The Third Mother curls her biceps and
offers no grievances.
She only smiles and nods.
Her son's summer days are filled with therapies and lessons.
Few friends seek his company.
He belongs to no team.
She alternates her forward lunges and
imagines she is in her kitchen,
peering at her back yard through the flower box window.
It is her pool the pack of hooligans splash in.
It is her pizza they share jokes and stories over.
She bends deeply at the knees and
pictures herself driving her mini SUV,
listening to arguments over a close play at second base.
It is her cell phone that rings,
announcing an invitation to grab some ice cream after the game.
Those are her car mats that are covered in diamond-shaped
clumps of mud, shaken from well-worn cleats.
She extends her arms above her head and
feels her gut tug in opposing directions.
She inhales deeply and ponders,
"If I should happen to live like the others,
would I complain or would I count my blessings?"
The Third Mother exhales,
collects her damp towel and her half-full water bottle,
and moves on to her tasks for the day.
She does not know the answer and
desperately wants to find out.
Posted by Annmarie at 4/8/2010 11:46 PM 
Categories: today's words
Tags: Grace Burns mothers differences friends imagine children
Categories: today's words
Tags: Grace Burns mothers differences friends imagine children
what a wonderful poem.
I just love it and I am sure that she would complain and be thankful at the same time.
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ya know i was having a rough day and doing some complaining but this put things really into perspective again for me. i need it!
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