A Day Out
A trio of women
blades slung over shoulders,
slug their way to the pond,
their trails in the banks
of quiet white mark
their pilgrimage-
No socks to mend
no laundry, no meals
to be accounted for-
their voices clamoring
escape they will
upon arrival - in
their most unlady-like fashion
cut loose on their secret mirror
under a cloudy sky;
skating, frolicking and acting
like the daughters
they would chastise
for such behavior
on any other day.
2011 © Michael A. Wells