Ayah; Homemaker

Your arms have grown thinner

From all that exercise,

Oscillations

Between your hands and the stove

Your stomach is more rounded

From the natural progression of things

Like twenty years of homemaking

Cooped up in your belly

You tell me your eyesight is weaker

I think it is from all that squinting

In the South’s unforgiving sun

No, you say– it’s menopause

Yet your vision is strong-

Focused on making your journey

From the bus stop to our home

Twice a day,

Every day of the week

Let us drive you, we say

Or take a rickshaw if you will,

These mud-caked ankles

Won’t do,

This can’t be good for you

I even offer you sunglasses

All the way from a Paki shop

In Barcelona

But you say

The sand nourishes your skin

And you are grateful

To have work that runs your house

In a home that you helped us make