<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=402205" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Jessie Mitchell’s Mother</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Into her mother’s bedroom to wash the ballooning body. <br>“My mother is jelly-hearted and she has a brain of jelly: <br>Sweet, quiver-soft, irrelevant. Not essential.<br>Only a habit would cry if she should die.<br>A pleasant sort of fool without the least iron. . . .<br>Are you better, mother, do you think it will come today?” <br>The stretched yellow rag that was Jessie Mitchell’s mother <br>Reviewed her. Young, and so thin, and so straight. <br>So straight! as if nothing could ever bend her.<br>But poor men would bend her, and doing things with poor men,<br>Being much in bed, and babies would bend her over,<br>And the rest of things in life that were for poor women, <br>Coming to them grinning and pretty with intent to bend and to kill.<br>Comparisons shattered her heart, ate at her bulwarks:<br>The shabby and the bright: she, almost hating her daughter, <br>Crept into an old sly refuge: “Jessie’s black<br>And her way will be black, and jerkier even than mine. <br>Mine, in fact, because I was lovely, had flowers<br>Tucked in the jerks, flowers were here and there. . . .”<br>She revived for the moment settled and dried-up triumphs,<br>Forced perfume into old petals, pulled up the droop, <br>Refueled<br>Triumphant long-exhaled breaths.<br>Her exquisite yellow youth . . .</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Gwendolyn+Brooks">Gwendolyn Brooks</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=402205" data-title="Jessie Mitchell’s Mother de Gwendolyn Brooks" data-description="Into her mother’s bedroom to wash the ballooning body. “My mother is jelly-hearted and she has a brain of jelly: Sweet, quiver-soft, irrelevant. Not essential. Only a habit would cry if she should die. A pleasant sort of fool without the lea..."></div> </div> </div>

solid border dashed border dotted border double border groove border ridge border inset border outset border no border blue green red purple cyan gold silver black