A serenade of loose thoughts follows;
some that resonate
while others resemble the flickering orange
box-light above double doors,
I am human and fickle,
I notice the blustery, exhilarating,
free flow
of white bedlinen on the washing line.
It’s undeniably the mind that falters;
five minutes into the business of laundering
and I am led to contemplate
the fabric of my life—
did I send out the emails last night,
what if the tomatoes are rotten,
if only my lipstick shade
accentuated my cheekbones then all
would be forgiven,
for now, I will wait for the clothes
to come out.
A lady’s private wash mustn’t hang
outside in the wind,
it contains truths spoken in clandestine
meetings with a loved one,
we offer our day’s errands
and hope against all odds that they will
suffice, five minutes,
is all it takes for the pulse to become
vigorous–
what is this devilry that whites always
get meshed with the colored?
But oh, there is joy to be found in clean
laundry, fragrance alone
gives rise to determination,
I raise my arms full of soap and prayer
every Wednesday
and hope for the best–
there is much to do before the sun goes down.
Photo credits: Pinterest
What a wonderful opening line, and then from coy to philosophy to vagaries and getting the task done. Sometimes I think you have shown your best verse, and then another comes. This is a particularly good read; enjoyed, paused for thought, and gasped while reading.
Thank you so much, Ain 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
what a thought-filled poem along with the laundry – love the metaphor
“I am led to contemplate
the fabric of my life—”
and how some things must be kept from prying eyes like “truths spoken in clandestine
meetings with a loved one,”
Awww gosh! Thank you so much, Laura 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
A full day is a good day.
Definitely! Thanks for stopping by, Ken! 💄❤️
Never knew laundering could be so poetic! But in your hands even the mundane becomes special. I totally agree with what Ain has said! Love it. 💖💖
Thank you so much, Punam 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
The contemplation we do as we perform everyday tasks. Beautifully expressed, Sanaa!
The ending is perfect:
“I raise my arms full of soap and prayer
every Wednesday
and hope for the best–
there is much to do before the sun goes down.”
Awww gosh! Thank you so much, Merril 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
I absolutely love this poem, Sanaa! I too have a fondness for clean laundry blustering in a breeze on a sunny day 😄
These lines especially made me smile:
“A lady’s private wash mustn’t hang
outside in the wind”
“what is this devilry that whites always
get meshed with the colored?” – 😂
“I raise my arms full of soap and prayer”
💕
That’s a swell poem, Sanaa. Reminds me of Glen Campbell’s song, “Dreams of the Everyday Housewife.”
https://youtu.be/2iOXcw5rwlc?si=F7Pngg9a8ZVoHmCJ
This is a wonderful imaginative poem, Sanaa. I love how your mind wonders as you do the wash and have some that you can’t hang on the line.
This poem is going stay with me today, Sanaa, as I have some laundry to do when I get back from swimming. I love the title, the interweave of philosophical musing with the image of ‘the blustery, exhilarating, free flow
of white bedlinen on the washing line’ and wordplay in ‘I am led to contemplate the fabric of my life’. You made me smile with these lines:
‘A lady’s private wash mustn’t hang
outside in the wind,
it contains truths spoken in clandestine
meetings with a loved one’
and
‘what is this devilry that whites always
get meshed with the colored?’
I agree, there is joy to be found in clean laundry, and in this poem!
Wash-day meditations, breezy and distaff while time passes in revolving panoplies of marionette unmentionables. Final stanza rocks.
Fabulous, fabulous, fabulous. I was mesmerized by this poem, this moment recreated superbly with your pen. That final stanza made me feel victorious!
Wonderful, wonderful poem. I am with you about washing clothes, the wandering thoughts, the joys of clean clothes. You nailed it!
There is a uniquely adult pleasure in a mundane task well done. Well conveyed.
A beautifully “laundered” poem, Sanaa! 💖