Keep the Suitcase Open

Mama needed a weekend.

She left lasagna in the oven,
instructions on the counter,
and departing words on the doorstep.

Mama needed a day without pearls.

She packed only two outfits for her trip
and took quiet pleasure
in the wrinkles and creases.
She wouldn't touch an iron for a while.

Mama needed to wake up one morning without the boys.

She drove quietly with the windows down.
She left the radio off, humming instead
with the engine.