dear washer dear cleaning cube
so coddled with small loads
you wait in the basement
and know she’ll come to do
her slow work with you and
together cleanse clothing
for children in and out
kids going your standing
grounds her work snapshot
of her hovering over stains
her intensity scrubbing nonstop
hands brush on the fabric you take in
those scrubbings of her your load lighter
many things you can do but not that labor
so many minutes she squanders at the iron
good washer functional mate of my mother
you are some days the idol she prays to
so even when we fail our clothes succeed
our days hung up on hangers still straight
tags ironed flat pleats in place on khaki
our closets remnants days shaped by us
hours ticking on timers your sister dryer
much more spoiled used sparingly
may grow lazy or even break from
lack of use by our lady of tumble
out the wrinkled then hang to dry
who makes our lives easier
so much easier by her care
who defends protects us
from abuse did you know
she has spent such time
Inspired by “Ode to the Loom” by Monica Sok
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