This poem is in response to the # What do you see photo prompt on Keep it alive by Sadje – chosen for May 1st International Labour Day…
Yoke
Her yoke is just a branch
no carved wood
save for the notches
anchoring the buckets
but a curved branch
A branch selected
for its curve
when loaded
with full buckets
to fit her shoulders
She shoulders
the load
every day
sometimes
more than once
Once
her shoulders were
not so curved
her yoke too
straighter
She cannot straighten
now, even when she
un-shoulders
her load
of water
Water every day
but no tears
a faint smile even
as she picks her way
homewards
Home where the
tree grows
that yielded
her curved branch
yoke.
Thank you for joining in with this moving poem! This is a harsh reality for many people in poor communities.
Beautiful and evoked memories of the elderly women in Ecuador although it wasn’t a yoke, it was usually a large heavy bundle of most anything.