SteamPower!

 

They still tell the story, there in the upper lobby
Lurlene and her board and the jungle and the dragon
Which could have been a tiger or a raptor or an ape.
The only thing we’re sure about’s Lurlene.
 
She said her adventure ticket had been punched
At fifty but her trip’d been delayed—by what
She never mentioned. She was tight, that dame.
We’re sure her only hobby was to clean.
 
On that evening, she set up the board—but—
Brought no clothes to iron, not a pant or shirt,
She wore her favorite dress and clambered up…
And set the heavy, newish iron to steam.
 
The wallpaper was bamboo when the mist
Rose hot and the creaking ironing board
Could have been a birdcall—they say she yelled
And fell, but there was no body to be seen.
 

We’ll never know the truth—that lobby
Was redone. The paper peeled, the carpet
Bore a singe and everyone just went to dinner.
We ate well instead of speaking.

But when the sharp-finned dinge begins to creep…
Someone—always joking—calls for Lady Steam.
Our brave , intrepid, ever-fighting Queen.
No moldy dragon ever got Lurlene!

With thanks to anyone who ever mopped a floor, cleaned a table before I sat down to eat, washed a dish or an outfit last minute or Lysol'd a doorknob because one of us had the flu--these are acts for which I'm grateful. Also--this may have been inspired by a family member's joy at receiving the Lysol they ordered from Amazon. Small victories.

--chrissa