You are my squatters, my kneelers, my benders,
my bone on bone,
worn from eight decades of demand.
Hours of kneeling on a catholic bench,
kicking the ball on a dirt road,
times on my knees scrubbing parquet,
up and down filing and sorting charts.
Life as it turns and spirals.
………………………………………………You have been faithful,
yet now need help. Shots like uppers
kick in for a while, but you are all stone,
won’t move without a moan.
………………………………………………Give me another
ten years and we’ll be done,
finally can say, we won in the race of fun
and duty. You are the ones that keep me stirring
morning, noon, and night
………………………………………………until we see the light.

————

Helga Kidder lives in the Tennessee hills where she is inspired by everyday life and the woods. Her poems have previously been published in Orbis, Atlanta Review, Lit Shark, and others. She has five books of poetry, Learning Curve, Loving the Dead (which won the Blue Light Press Book Award), Blackberry Winter, Luckier than the Stars, and Wild Plums. Some of her poems have been nominated for the Pushcart Prize.