Posted in life, Poetry, Random

Laundry

I didn’t hear the dryer stop running,

though I knew when it did,

such a simple constant

that I

only register it in the background of

my mind, and…

I think sometimes my life is like that dryer in the background,

I feel it moving, all around me, sometimes past me;

But I just let it, and

every now and again,

it lulls me into believing that I can

leave the laundry until tomorrow.