Hygea

Your knock was expected at the door

I screamed the floor from my bed

the floor the bathroom floor

the refrigerator is near a stage of dead

While we're here the kitchen has needs

My dear goddess helps me not

even after my cooking and enormous feeds

somewhere I lost it a greasy pot

Hygea has marked my house with her finger

so sanitary that not one bead

of sweaty dirt on that hand will linger

her mark a warning for others to heed

Barry G. Wick