Reverse Roles
Sweat rolls down the crevices of her face
Her body is tired and she's covered with beads of water
slowly sliding down her hairy back
She's tired, She feels she cannot go another mile.
She closes her eyes , desperately trying to catch her breath
She drops into her favorite chair
All she wants is five minutes of peace and quiet
But her husband keeps nagging
She regains her composer even with indigestion
She burps, then relaxes her feet across the footstool
Her blouse is still wet with moisture, and tucked halfway into her dress
She pays it no mind, she has a task to fulfill
She has planted herself, in her room ,where her creative skills reoccur over and over
With the tv remote in her hand, she's in control
By George Langley
© 2008 George Langley
(All rights reserved)
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