Laundry

My life can be measured

In loads of fabric

Cut, sewn and shaped

Into some sort of meaning

 

Into the washer they

Mash all together

Wet, with soap they spin

Into a lumpy heap

 

Transfer most to the dryer

Where heat wicks the wet away

Except for a few to hang dry

According to dictation on the tag

 

When they are ready

They are folded and hung

To start the cycle anew

In moments of wear and sweat

 

 

© 2017 Valerie Hathaway

 

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