Vocal Mimicry

The dog brought the garden in on his paws.

I made a sound—a sharp, thin intake—

the same jagged edge of my mother's laws

about how a clean house is a soul at stake.

I’m on my knees with a toothbrush now,

scrubbing the wood till my knuckles ache.

The yellow gloves drip, a sweaty brow,

cleaning a floor for a neighbor's sake.