what is love? A poem by Mari Angelica Galangco

what is love?

I asked my mother once, on a cloudy
afternoon. She was scrubbing a plain,
white shirt with her thin, cold hands–
rough like the powdered detergent she
bought from the dollar store with a
toonie she found in between the seats
of the late-night bus, she would take
to go home after a day of scrubbing
toilets and mopping floors with other
gray-haired, single mothers who spoke
less English than the 3-year-old toddlers
with fat fingers living in the houses
they called their workplace. She sighed,
plunged the shirt under the basin full
of bubbly water before wringing it
out and checking for the black stain
she’s been scrubbing off for the past
hour. She tsked, reprimanded me for
asking about nonsense things,
		and kept on scrubbing.

Return to Journal

Mari Angelica Galangco is currently taking an Advanced Creative Writing Seminar course at Trent University Durham GTA. She enjoys going on strolls, watching cozy movies and drinking matcha lattes during her spare time. She is working towards being a primary teacher in the near future.