putting the good things away - marge piercy lyrics
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in the drawer were folded fine
batiste slips embroidered with scrolls
and posies, edged with handmade
lace too good for her to wear
daily she put on schmatehs
fit only to wash the car
or the windows, rags
that had never been pretty
even when new: somewhere
such dresses are sold only
to women without money to waste
on themselves, on pleasure
to women who hate their bodies
to women whose lives close on them
such dresses come bleached by tears
packed in salt like herring
yet she put the good things away
for the good day that must surely
come, when promises would open
like tulips their satin cups
for her to drink the sweet
sacramental wine of fulfillment
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