Day’s End

By Ora Pate Stewart

The fire is dying, and the door is latched;
My day is done. Not quite – for in my hand
This little pair of trousers must be patched
Where General Custer made his latest stand.

Tomorrow they will ride with Jesse James
Or die with Crockett for the Alamo.
I take a stitch, then coax the fading flames
To rise where embers were content to glow.

I do not ask for more – a little light,
A rocking chair, a friendly fire to tend.
Someone to tuck between soft sheets at night –
And always, always, something, Lord, to mend.

(1950)