The Many Women

The Many Women by C. Bruedigam 

there is a woman in me who dreams of new clothespins.
it is what she thinks of at times.
there is a woman in me who dreams of spice, both in the pot and out.
it is what she thinks of most often.
there is a woman in me who dreams of far-away places,
it is what she does when the wanderer strikes,
before she rearranges the furniture.
there is a woman in me who runs to the children
it is she who hears their cries.
there is a woman in me that ties herself,
it is all she remembers.
there is a woman in me that loosens the binds,
it is she that brings me nearer,
to all that is mine.