Oh, there were sassy ladies,
Rolling and hip swaying
In voluble conversations each
One stepping and braiding
the words of each other.
Independent and political, boldly
careening while dancing lightly around
The naysayers who stood in shocked conversation.
Stern proper women wearing white
and stiff collars approved by their husbands.
They frowned down on them,
These rotund and happy women
Who were tapping and rapping,
Skipping and hopping in intricate circles.
Drum banging, round singing, fluting tunes,
Playing. Shouting joyous news over baskets
Of biscuits, of blossoms, of brightly
Colored laundry, of fresh bread and
School books, holding hands like children,
Vividly recalling their sweet loving
Mothers who had danced as they toiled
With hip swaying chatter filled
With love everlasting as they twisted
The language of families belonging
Around Maypoles and harvest, children,
And Husbands slowly leaving in abeyance
Those pursed lipped disapprovers
As the long walk home followed fence and field.