Hurry - A Poem by Marie Howe

Hurry

We stop at the dry cleaners and the grocery store 
and the gas station and the green market and
Hurry up honey, I say, hurry, as she runs along two or three steps behind me her blue jacket unzipped and her socks rolled down.
To mine? Where one day she might stand all grown? 
you walk ahead of me. You be the mother.

Where do I want her to hurry to? To her grave?
Today, when all the errands are finally done, I say to her, 
Honey I'm sorry I keep saying Hurry—

And, Hurry up, she says, over her shoulder, looking 
back at me, laughing. Hurry up now darling, she says, 
hurry, hurry, taking the house keys from my hands.

--- Poem by by Marie Howe, 

                                                                                                       alumna of Prince Street class of 1968

Editors Note:  Marie Howe is the niece of Srs. Madeline and Margaret "Kelly" Howe, RSCJ who are both deceased.  I thought Marie's poem was befitting as we end National Poetry Month and celebrate her  appointment as 10th New York State Poet. 

Poem copyright ©2008 by Marie Howe, and reprinted from "When She Named Fire," ed., Andrea Hollander Budy, Autumn House Press, 2009. First published in "The Kingdom of the Ordinary" by Marie Howe, W.W. Norton, 2008. Used by permission of Marie Howe and the publisher.