Sandra Heska King

daring to open doors

Clean

By

Lost.

That for which

I no longer looked.

It brought

color to my day

and held morning

life blood

rich burnt brown,

but I considered it

broken by another

and tossed away

dead to me.

Now found and

growing–life?

I will wash it.

Clean.

Linked to  One Shot Wednesday at One Stop Poetry.

Comments

  7. Gay Cannon says

    This poem reminds me of the “mates”. Wherever socks of teenage boys go, they return in unlikely places through years of college, after they marry, even after you redecorate, there they are like reminders of how time slipped through your fingers and their shoes. Good piece. Thanks.

    • Sandra says

      Where do those socks go, and what are they doing while they are there?

      “. . . reminders of how time slipped through your fingers and their shoes.” That’s bittersweet.

  9. pete marshall says

    thanks for a wonderful share…heck put a drop of tea in there and i would still drink it!!! cheers pete

  11. Robin Arnold says

    That takes me back to cleaning my boss’s cups out at work. A 4 spoons full of sugar and cream coffee drinker, his cups were notorious after a weekend. I refused to be grossed out.

    Nicely done!

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