Enough grace

 

Picking up dirty socks from the floor, exasperated at their presence

Tiredness exaggerates my movements

The heart of a mama beats

Wash, dry, sort, fold, put away

 

Mountainous laundry stares me down

Tedium reigns

The rhythm of repetition

Breathe in, breathe out

Wash, dry, sort, fold, put away

 

The grace of repetition?

The grace of everyday

 

Hands submerged in oily dishwater

 

My skin wrinkles

Before its time

 

Hers will not

 

Cleaning dishes becomes grace

The chance to

The ability to

The choice to

 

 

There is enough grace here

Enough to rant and rage against

Sill there are glimmers of light sneaking through

 

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