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