Cleanliness is next to godliness
Grandma always said.
Most days she met me at the screen door
with a feather duster
or our new Electrolux vacuum,
the hose sucking my blouse.
She said she liked her girls clean.
She said I was coated
with dog hairs, horse hairs,
and God only knows what all else.
Fixing me like a flower bouquet,
tucking in my blouse, fluffing my bangs
and adjusting my barrettes,
she'd stare me down just to let me know
I was allowed in only if she said so.