Ode to an Unfinished Batch of Laundry
A patchwork of pinks
Lies disheveled on the tiled
Laundry floor,The washer door
Half open,Waiting patiently
Like Cinderella’s gloved footman
At her carriage.
A splash of sunlight reaches across the floor to
Warm us
On this wintry day,
As I cradle baby’s
Down-soft head in my hands--
Breathing in her sweet smell,
Soaking in her smiles,
And pressing her
Milk-soft cheek to
Mine;
Letting the day melt away
As lullabies
Coo the
Half-finished laundry
Away into dreamland.
Here is a link to my favorite poem in this same vein. Do you have a poem or story that inspires you?
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