Wash & Dry

Home is at the sink where I do my thinking

I craft schedules while scrubbing plates

I envision my children’s futures submerged to the wrist

In hot water

I build fortunes with steam

I wish on soap bubbles, not stars

Little hands slip sippy cups under my arm

I play music while I wash

Dancing to the tinkle of cutlery and my children’s giggles

My back aches with the weight of my baby on my chest

I worry my way through the rent

Stress about health problems

Fret about the loss of jobs

While rinsing,

all those worries,

Down the drain.

My husband hugs me from behind and holds me up

Lifts me onto the pedestal he’s placed me

Right below God

So I don’t mind doing the dishes

With feet planted in the house, he’s built

On hours of being away

While I am here sharpening the knives

I’ve laid out our dreams on cutting boards

Sanitizing any fear or expectations that might linger

Rinsing leftover love from pots and pans left to soak

I put home away to dry.