I don’t know how she does it (an ode to women)

With the child strapped to her back

And that pot balancing heavily on her head                   

She steps majestically towards the river

Miles away she makes her way back home

For the moon must not beat her to it

I don’t know how she does it

 

She bustle through the crowed for the bargain

The few coins must cater to the family

The bellies waiting must be filled

And in time the bowls will gather

I don’t know how she does it

 

The alarm should not ring to closed eyes

The dread of the city traffic weighs on her

The kids must not miss the morning bell

And she the morning meeting to attend

With deadlines screaming her name

I don’t know how she does it.

 

Yet she walks so gracefully

With a smile that says

Everything is under control

She makes it look easy

I don’t know how she does it.

 

 

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14 thoughts on “I don’t know how she does it (an ode to women)

  1. Where I live, such was a scenery I witness often. And I don’t know how those women did it. Now I’m a mother, I have kids, and still don’t know how they did it.

    Anyway, you put the story very nicely in the poem. I liked it very much!

  2. Very nice. I like how you bring different visions to the reader’s mind to represent the many ways that women provide across cultures and circumstances.

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