The “No”

The no keeps coming back, the no
with its pathetic cry and the mother again
who said it and said it, yelling
at the child who never got it right
in the house that had to be cleaned,
no matter what, the cleaning
and the no that went with it,
with its did not, did not, and didn’t I show you
and how many times again,
wrong, and this is why she had to throw
the clothes on the floor, make you
do it again until you learned
to keep it all neat and clean, to go
far away, in a million ways, and the years
afterward you kept this up,
asking and worrying, how you needed
to do it right and show them all, not
even to cry when she needed you
to understand and told you, and
not to cry even when she died.