Mother’s Ironing Board

What an odd creature,
with spindly legs that folded neatly
when not in use.
All I can picture now
is that its back was tall as me
when on its tiny feet,
yet it turned into a giant
as it reared
untamed in the utility closet.
That strange beast
with a long, aristocratic nose
and broad butt,
a domesticated steed only when
smoothly groomed,
its flank waiting to be saddled
with wrinkly clothes.

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