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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,

under mundanity

of housework.


© Lily 09.10.2014

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Photo Credit: JamesDeMers Pixabay