A Navy Wife (poem)

My mother was good
with her hands
fixing the toys
of me and my brother.
A good thing, too
with dad so long
at sea.

Whenever she told me
the fleet was coming in
I rushed to round up toys
and took them to her
to fix
before dad took a stab
and broke them.

When dad was home, she
forgot how to fix anything.
Take them to your father,
she would say.

And this made the twilight
before his arrival
flush with urgency, fixing
whatever needed fixing
before she forgot how
capable she was
and became
a Navy wife.

--Charles Deemer