I kick the dishwasher door shut
with my right foot.
Slam the mugs into their rightful place
without a backward glance,
click the washer onto spin.
Will it never end?
pulled up short,
a though occurs;
one day there will be no pots to wash,
no clothes to be done,
for you will be gone.
I fondly caress your fleece
slung carelessly across the chair,
and remove your work bag from the table –
to reveal the lily head, squashed,
beheaded, and hidden,
© Lily 09.10.2014
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Photo Credit: JamesDeMers Pixabay